


A Window into Change

by Writingwife83



Series: Winds of Change [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-02-18 15:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 59,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2353115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/pseuds/Writingwife83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a follow up based on the established Sherlolly from my story Winds of Change. Please read that first, before diving into this one! This will be one or two shot glimpses into their life. No specific plot or time line. I'm writing these almost entirely based on prompts I get. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moving Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers! Once again, this is a continuation of Winds of Change. So I'd recommend reading that one first before jumping into this. I'll be crediting the reader/readers who prompted each chapter/chapters since I'll be working mostly from prompts with this story. (I cannot promise that I'd write every kind of suggestion offered though.) I hope to get many more!
> 
> This chapter was inspired by a prompt from Sherlockedinseattle. You and your ideas are amazing and will keep me busy writing for quite some time! Hope you (and everyone else) enjoy! ;)

Sherlock shut the door on the van and climbed into the driver's seat.

"Ready Molly?"

"Never been more ready...take me home," she smiled.

Sherlock's eyes brightened and he began driving back to Baker Street.

It had been helpful today to have a former client who Sherlock had cleared of burglary charges. He had found the evidence in the man's favor at least. It was helpful on this day because the man owned a catering business and was willing to loan Sherlock and Molly one of his vans for the purpose of moving her into 221B. There wasn't too much in the way of large items that were actually going to Sherlock's, but they still had to be cleared out of Molly's old flat. And they'd have to take some things to storage temporarily, until they got sold.

Sherlock had insisted that his furniture was better and that her's should be what gets sold. He swore his bed was nicer, and his couch, and his chairs, and his tables, and that just about everything else of his should stay. Molly knew to pick her battles. The man was inviting her into his home to live with him day in and day out. And he was a creature of habit. If he wanted to keep his things the same in an effort to unconsciously make the transition as easy as possible, so be it. She didn't care about her lousy furniture anyway. They had been cheap purchases from when she'd first moved to her flat and still had debt left from getting her degree.

But Molly was pretty sure they would still end up having to do some shopping. The plan was to convert John's old room into Sherlock's home lab. (Though he had forcefully stated that it in no way means he'd be a less frequent visitor at Bart's.) So Molly felt that it would be time for a new kitchen table and chairs. The table that had so long served as a surface used for experiments could continue to serve as such in John's old room. Sherlock was willing to go along with this plan. Though he didn't really see the logic right away in changing John's room.

_"But that's John's room!" he had questioned looking horrified._

_"Sherlock, John isn't coming back you know. I hope you're not holding out hope that he does!"_

_"Of course I'm not, don't be ridiculous! It just seems...strange to change it."_

_"Oh I know, but it can still be a guest room just in case. Why don't we get a day bed to keep in the corner or something. Takes up less space than John's old bed, but it would be something in case anyone stays with us. Then you'll have plenty of room for your lab."_

_"Hmm, I suppose," he'd said quietly_.

Sherlock was holding on to the things that felt normal and comfortable. Again, Molly knew it wasn't some sort of insult to her or a wish that his life hadn't changed to include her presence. This was just Sherlock. She could handle it.

It proved to be a very long and tiring day. They had to bring the larger items to storage, where John and Wiggins had met them to help. They had left only Molly's wardrobe, clothing, and other small items to take back to Baker Street. When they got back to Sherlock's, there was a seemingly endless procession of carrying boxes up the stairs. Mrs Hudson was more than pleased at this development and happily watched as all Molly's things traveled up to Sherlock's flat.

"Oh I'm so glad!" she said sweetly as she patted Molly's face. "I mean I was surprised of course. Didn't think you were anywhere close to his type!" she laughed.

"Oh, really? Well, I suppose I was surprised a bit as well... But you just feel free to call me anytime. Tell me if Sherlock's being too loud, or he's forgotten the rent, or even if there's anything you need. I'm so grateful you're fine with me moving in!"

"Oh of course! I'd never stand in the way of this lovely man's happiness!" She grabbed Sherlock as he approached, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Aren't you cheerful Mrs Hudson? I hope you're not imagining that the two of you will be able to gang up on me." and he wrapped an arm around Molly's shoulders while kissing the top of her head.

"We wouldn't dream of it," Molly said as she looked at Mrs Hudson and mouthed _yes we would_.

Mrs Hudson sighed happily as she smiled again at the two of them. "Well just remember I'm right downstairs... Oh! And I'm not sure if Sherlock already mentioned, but I'm not-"

"Not our housekeeper? Yes Mrs Hudson, I know," Molly said sweetly.

Mrs Hudson smiled again and looked at Sherlock. "Oh, I like her." then she walked off happily to her own flat.

Sherlock turned Molly around to face him in his arms. "I believe we just got the last of it. I'd say it's about time we clear everybody else out, wouldn't you?" and he lowered his lips to press against hers.

She hummed happily against his kiss, but wasn't easily drawn in. "Sherlock we absolutely have to feed John and Wiggins before they leave. They just helped me move, we have to do something!"

Sherlock pouted. "But it's taken us weeks to finally get you moved in here for good, and I just wanted to spend the evening, _and the night_ , with you!"

Molly wrapped her arms around his neck and hung onto him as she spoke soothingly against his ear. "We feed them, and then they'll go. That's all I'm saying. They're not coming to bed with us. Don't worry, once they're gone, I'm all yours."

Then Molly pulled away with some effort and called to the two men who were still standing with the van. "Hey we're going to get some take away, and I insist on feeding you both. And John you can take some back for Mary too."

Both men were easily convinced, and a half hour later the van had been returned and take away had been brought back for all. They sat around eating in the small flat surrounded by the boxes that contained all of Molly's possessions. Molly let out an exasperated sigh as she set her plate down.

"I wish I had the day off tomorrow. I'd love to get this all sorted out. I'd be so much more comfortable. I've got to at least get my clothes put away tonight." She glanced around her in frustration.

"Mary was disappointed she couldn't help. Figured it would be a bit difficult with Lizzie though," John said as he put his own empty plate onto the kitchen table.

"Tell her to bring the baby this weekend and we can organize! I'd love it if Lizzie was here too!" Molly offered. "She can put my things away and I'll just snuggle with the baby!"

"Oh I'm sure she'll be tempted. She's getting a bit stir crazy."

"We should babysit some time John! We'd love to do that wouldn't we Sherlock?" Molly asked excitedly.

Suddenly Sherlock looked frightened. "Oh, come on, you love Lizzie!" Molly said upon seeing his expression.

"I've held her, Molly, that doesn't mean I know how to keep her alive for hours on end!"

John laughed out loud. "What do you think Sherlock, she's likely to drop dead if she stays with you for too long? Aren't you supposed to be brilliant? She's not that hard to keep alive. You feed her, you keep her clean, and you watch her. Not that she can even move much yet. You'd probably have an easier time keeping her alive right now than another year from now. By that time she'll be a genuine danger to herself!" John shuddered at the thought of his daughter toddling around getting herself into trouble.

"She can't talk and I can't ask her questions! That makes figuring things out awfully difficult. Deducing a baby isn't really my area."

"Mary can do it," John said proudly. "She can tell the difference between Lizzie's cries. Sounds different depending on whether she needs a change or a feed or a cuddle because she's tired."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Hm, fascinating. I'll have to sort that out for myself as well. If Molly insists on us babysitting, that will prove most useful."

"Oh I think it would be fun!" Molly rubbed her hands in glee. "I'll talk to Mary. Maybe in another few months when she's a bit older. You two should still get a night out sometimes. Just for a break."

"Sounds pretty great to me right now. You know you're in need of a break when a day of furniture moving was a bit of a treat." John said as he rubbed his eyes. "But I should actually get going anyway. Mary just texted me and asked when I'd be back."

"I'll be leaving too...because Sherlock would like us to leave." Wiggins announced suddenly, and everyone looked at him. And then he continued.

"I deduce that he'd like to be alone with Molly and-"

"Wiggins!" Molly cut in loudly. She'd learned that Wiggins could be almost as deadly embarrassing with deduction as Sherlock...almost. But she certainly didn't trust where he was going with that sentence.

Sherlock let out a low chuckle as he strode over to put his arm around Molly.

"Excellent deduction Wiggins, though when I'm around I think it would be best if you leave the deducing to me. We can't both be irritating people. I've earned that right first and foremost." and he kissed Molly's very red cheek.

"On that note, I think I'll make an extra effort to vacate this flat as quickly as possible." John gathered the rest of his take away and put his coat and shoes on.

Both guests were gone minutes later and when the door shut behind them Sherlock immediately came over and wrapped his arms around Molly's waist, lifting her from the ground and initiating an instantly passionate kiss. They backed up and landed on the couch, but Molly quickly pulled away.

"I really did want to get my clothes sorted in the wardrobe before bed." she protested, holding him back with a hand on his chest.

"Clothing is not a requirement at the moment Molly. In fact it's very strongly discouraged." he said in a low rumble as he removed the small blocking hand and capturing her mouth in a kiss again. He pulled her easily onto his lap and Molly felt her resolve crumbling rapidly...and she decided to stop fighting. She thought to herself, _this is my first night officially living at 221B Baker Street. What in the world else should I be doing right now?!_

* * *

 

"Are you coming to bed?" Molly asked almost an hour later. She lay with her head on Sherlock's chest on the couch.

"Mm, perhaps not quite yet. May check emails. I'll want to take a case tomorrow." he answered lazily.

"Oh come on, I'm going to bed alone on my first night living here?" she whined.

"You have already slept here more than half the nights since you agreed to move in Molly. This isn't really any different." Molly sighed dramatically.

"Suppose the honeymoon is over already eh?"

He tilted his head over to look at her with a playfully disgruntled expression. "After this past hour, you're claiming the honeymoon is over?! I give up!"

Molly laughed. "Stop! I just thought it would be nice. I seem to remember you wanting nothing more than my company while you slept not too long ago."

"As I still do. But I may not want to sleep just yet."

Molly pulled her shirt over her head and slipped out from under the blanket they'd been under. "Oh fine! Have it your way." she kissed him before standing up.

"I'll be to bed in a while. Try to get some sleep though Molly. You have work tomorrow at eight."

"Oh don't worry, I will." she sighed as she took another look at the room that was full of boxes that housed her clothes and books and things. "I'll just tackle this mess tomorrow after work I suppose."

"Ah yes, no rush." Sherlock responded in a relaxed tone with his eyes closed again in thought.

 _Easy for him to say_ , she thought. _He's used to living in this state_!

"Goodnight Sherlock."

"Goodnight Molly."

She disappeared down the hall and his eyes popped open when he heard the light switch off. He sat up and pulled his own pants and shirt back on then. He looked down at Toby who was peering up at him in interest.

"You're not going to be any help in this endeavor are you?" he questioned. The cat emitted a small mew and jumped up next to him on the couch.

"No. No undeserved affection for you right now," he said sternly as he stood up. "I have work to do."

* * *

 

 

Molly had noticed Sherlock coming to bed a few hours after she did. As well as some commotion in the bedroom, though she couldn't think what sort of work he was doing in there. She woke feeling pretty rested though. But when her alarm went off at seven that morning, Sherlock wasn't there. She saw he'd left a note on his pillow.

_Had to take a dreadfully early case. Sorry I couldn't be there to say good morning. I'll be home by the time you get out of work. We can have a relaxed evening tonight. You won't have much to do...you're welcome. -Sherlock_

Molly frowned. "You're welcome?" she said aloud to herself. She shrugged and got out of bed to go make some coffee.

Molly strolled down the short hallway and into the kitchen, starting the coffee. Toby wound around her feet and mewed for his food. She fed him, then finally turned to look into the sitting room. She did a double take, and wondered if she was dreaming. The boxes were... gone. Had she only imagined moving in yesterday? Or worse, had they been robbed in the night?

Then she looked around the room more carefully. There were her books on the shelf, there was her lamp on the table, and the picture of her parents on the mantel, and the list went on. All her things were placed and put away. Molly then had an incredibly exciting theory about the night's noises. She turned and rushed back down the hallway into the bedroom. She flung open her wardrobe that had been placed next to Sherlock's yesterday. And there were all her clothes, perfectly folded and hung up, and put in the little drawers.

The smile spread on Molly's face as she raced back down the hall into the kitchen and got her mobile. "Oh that beautiful, beautiful man..." she murmured as she typed away on her phone.

THE HONEYMOON IS MOST CERTAINLY NOT OVER! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID ALL THAT, THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES! JUST WAIT TILL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU LATER! XOXO -MH

He responded as she was pouring her coffee into her mug.

WHY DO YOU THINK I DID IT? DON'T FORGET YOU ARE LIVING WITH A GENIUS NOW...WELCOME TO 221B BAKER STREET MOLLY. -SH

Molly looked around at the flat with the sun streaming in through the windows. She smiled and whispered to herself happily, "welcome indeed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus begins their life! Remember I'm not sticking to chronological order here, so don't let that hold back the prompts you'd like to share. I look forward to many exciting ideas rolling in! ;)


	2. Make Yourself at Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly convinces Sherlock to go furniture shopping with her, and naturally, taking the world's only consulting detective shopping isn't your typical experience.   
> This prompt came from (fanfiction name) Sherlockedinseattle. Thanks! ;)

"Do you have a case tomorrow?" Molly asked as she walked with Sherlock back downstairs from John's old room.

"No. Not yet at least."

"Oh good! I don't have to work either. I was thinking we could go get a table and chairs. Maybe a day bed for up there too."

"Must we?" Sherlock sighed. "We have chairs we can sit in."

"But they're not in the kitchen. There's nothing in the kitchen anymore now that we moved everything for your lab upstairs."

"Yes but _why_ can't we just sit in these chairs to eat?" Sherlock fell back into his leather chair by the fire.

"Because it's not normal! And what if we have company over and nowhere for them to sit? And besides, I told you before this was what I wanted to do and you did agree at the time."

"Fine!" he drew out slowly while rolling his eyes, then he jumped up straighter and his eyes widened. "Wait, why do I have to go? Can't you just go yourself?"

"Because Sherlock, we are in a relationship and are living together. That means we do certain things together. Big things and little things. It would be strange for me to pick those things out by myself since they're for our flat." Molly sat across from Sherlock in "John's chair."

"Any chance there could be a set of eyeballs in it for me?" he asked hopefully.

"Um, I'd love to say yes, but I can't promise anything. You know I can't control absolutely everything that comes and goes from the morgue."

Sherlock looked pitifully disappointed.

"But," Molly sighed, "I'll certainly do my best."

"There! Now at least I'll have something to look forward to." He brightened up while leaping out of his chair to pick up his violin. Toby then bolted down the hallway into the bedroom, as he had taken to doing every time Sherlock picked up the violin. He wasn't a big fan.

Molly was trying to make herself comfortable in the flat. There was, of course, nothing that could take away from the happiness Molly felt in living with Sherlock. But there was an undeniable reality that when one first moves somewhere new, it doesn't feel like home for a certain period of time. There was nothing to be done but ride it out. She'd felt the same thing every time she'd lived somewhere new. And she knew that one day she'd wake up in Sherlock's bed, in Sherlock's flat...and suddenly it would be _her_ bed and _her_ flat. But till then, she did still have the constant nagging feeling that she was a guest.

Molly sat down on the couch with the basket of wash that needed folding, and began sorting clothing as Sherlock played and paced through the room. She'd learned that it was best not to start oozing praise for his playing. He didn't play for praise or to impress. He did it to relax his mind. So she always kept to herself, the fact that his playing made her feel emotional in a marvelous way. She made that mistake once, and then learned her lesson...

_"Oh Sherlock...my God, that was- that was beautiful!" she sniffled a bit._

_Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically as he immediately set the instrument down. "Molly, please do try not to listen when I play. If I have to endure emotional weeping every time I play the violin, I shall have to find another location entirely to play in!"_

_"Oh, sorry. It was just so- I mean, never mind. I'll shut up now."_

He had apologized later. He hadn't meant to make her feel unwelcome, but playing the violin was always something that was very private and personal. Meant to be something only between him and his mind. So it was a sort of an interruption in that process of relaxation to then be praised for the playing. She understood. Molly knew that he wasn't about to change all the little things that made him Sherlock simply because she was now living there. And what fun would that be anyway? She'd miss all those strange little things.

Oh, and there were certainly strange things. Sherlock didn't have regular sleeping patterns. Despite the fact that he did sleep well when with Molly, he still didn't sleep at regular times like most people would. Sometimes he would wake up for a few hours in the middle of the night, insisting on getting something done at that moment. Other times he just wouldn't go to bed at all until two or three in the morning, and then he'd sleep late. On less frequent occasions, he would come home having finished a case early in the evening and want to go straight to bed after eating. And then he'd wake up in the early hours of the morning before it was even light out.

Sherlock began to learn lessons as well, because at first he'd taken to waking Molly whenever he would get up. Especially if it was a time when he felt he wanted to do something important. He'd get an interesting idea for an experiment, and insist that she come help. Or he'd want to go over some details of a case out loud and expected that she could listen. But he was quickly learning that this wasn't popular. It made for a very tired and cranky Molly who was not as pleasant to live with. She'd been willing to get up with him a couple times, but only because he was genuinely distressed about a case and couldn't sleep till it was figured out. But a couple other times when he'd attempted to excitedly awaken her for some project, he'd only succeeded in earning a face full of pillow. Fair enough.

"Oh look!" Molly exclaimed suddenly. "Mary just sent me this picture."

Sherlock came over and peered at the image of Lizzie that was now on Molly's phone. "Lovely. Looks more Mary every day."

"She's smiling so much now, it's adorable!"

"She's smart, you can tell. The way she watches people, like she's noting everything and learning. I'd dearly love to experiment-"

"Oh you'd better not! Don't even start down that mental path Sherlock! You can't make Lizzie Watson into some little test subject. John and Mary would have your head."

"Obviously I'm not going to hurt her! And I wouldn't do anything damaging to her emotionally. I'd just be interested to...observe some things."

"Well don't ever voice those interests to the Watsons because they'll never let us babysit!" Molly was very sure that there was a lot of potential for Sherlock to make a mess of things when it came to the Watson baby. So she flattered herself that she'd come into Sherlock's like at the perfect time. Right in time to make sure he didn't do anything crazy like experiment on a baby!

One thing was for sure. She'd never be bored.

* * *

 

 

"Please don't speak to the employees Sherlock. Or if you do, please don't deduce them! We want to be able to make a purchase without getting kicked out," Molly whispered as they walked into the furniture store.

"What exactly do you want me here for then?" he asked in frustration.

"To get your opinion. That's all."

He shrugged. "That just seems a waste."

Molly went straight for the tables and chairs. Sherlock began at first by walking behind her. Then he started systematically sitting at every chair at every table that they passed. He looked like a crazy person.

"Sherlock, what are you-"

"If you want my honest and accurate opinion, you're going to have to allow me to examine these pieces of furniture to the full."

"Oh dear Lord...fine, do what you must," she muttered and continued looking.

He began crouching down to look underneath each table as well. He examined the way it was built and how structurally sound he believed it was. As she was talking to a woman who worked there, she saw out of the corner of her eye that he'd slouched down in the seat of a chair and put his feet up on the table. He then got up and picked the chair up in his hands and seemed to practice the act of swinging it. She widened her eyes at him and he mouthed the words, _for self defense_. She flushed in embarrassment, then continued talking to the woman.

When she'd finished, she looked around and saw he had disappeared. Molly crossed through the kitchen and dining room section into the bedroom section. There he was, laying on a day bed, clearly relaxing in his mind palace. She observed from a far that a few people walked by snickering at the sight of the well dressed man making himself comfortable on the display furniture. Molly made her way over closer and saw a man stop and say something to Sherlock.

"If I'm not mistaken, I don't believe the customers are meant to lay down on the furniture and put their feet up!"

Sherlock's eyes popped open and he looked up at the man.

"If _I'm_ not mistaken, it's rather bad form to be covertly shopping for furnishing your mistress's flat when you are here with your _wife_." Sherlock glanced at the woman a few paces away before glaring back at the man.

Molly threw her face into her palm as she crossed the rest of the distance to where her lovely boyfriend lay. The man walked away past her in a huff as she stopped in front of the day bed.

"Like this one, do you?" she asked in a giggle.

"Mm, it's supportive. But still comfortable...here, try it." He scooted over.

Molly looked around her nervously. "Oh, um, I better not..."

"Oh come on! You want to chose furniture, but I seem to be the only one around here who's actually choosing based on physical evidence." He tugged on her arm, pulling her onto the mattress.

Molly sighed and lay down next to him. She turned and looked at him. Sherlock had closed his eyes again and was thinking.

"You know this isn't actually going to be our bed. It would be too small, and it's meant to be upstairs in case of a guest...why are we trying it out?"

"I'm particular about the feel of a mattress. I'm assuming that if it's acceptable to me, it would be acceptable to anyone else who were sleeping on it as well...in fact, we should replace the mattress on our bed as well!" he said suddenly, sitting up.

Molly sat up as well. "Oh really? Do we need a mattress?"

"I believe the one on my bed is between eight and nine years old, which is nearing the average life span of a mattress. Besides, I don't think I'm wrong in saying that my mattress is now likely to age about ten times as fast as it had in the years when I was the only one sleeping on it."

Molly looked hurt at first. "What?! I'm not that heavy- Oh! Oh, never mind, I think I see what you mean." Her face turned red.

Sherlock smiled and kissed her cheek, then leapt over her and off the bed. He gave her a hand at getting back on her feet, then they went over to the regular mattress section. Sherlock insisted on testing them all in much the same way as he had before. Molly played along, and soon her embarrassment melted away. She was laughing and climbing onto every one of the beds with him without being asked.

"This one is perfect," Sherlock murmured softly with his eyes closed about a half hours later, as Molly twisted her fingers through his hair.

"Are you sure? You liked lots of them. Is this one definitely the best?"

"Hm, let's see." He turned and leaned over Molly, pressing a hard kiss to her lips. He pulled away and pressed his lips together while tilting his head slightly in thought. "Yes, this one feels right," he confirmed with a nod.

Molly giggled as the color rose in her cheeks again, and she hoped none of the employees actually saw that. Then he sat up suddenly and looked at her.

"Wait, do you like this one? I haven't really been asking your opinion have I?"

"No, you haven't. But that's ok. I don't think I'm so picky. And yes, I like this one. If I didn't before, I certainly do now!"

"Excellent...did you decide on a table set as well?"

"Yes. That dark one. The one with the really simple details on the legs and chairs."

"Mm, good choice...so, we're done?"

"We're done! Let me just go get the orders in and set up a delivery time. Why don't you just stay here in your mind palace...it's probably safer that way." Molly planted a kiss on his forehead as he lay back down.

* * *

 

 

About a week later they lay relaxing on their new mattress on their bed in 221B Baker Street.

"I'm glad we bought some things. It feels a bit more cozy now. Like home."

Sherlock turned to look at her. "Did it not feel like home before?"

" _You_ feel like home. But it's always strange when you start living in a new place. It feels like you'll be packing up and heading back to your real home at any moment."

"Well I'm glad this made you feel more...comfortable."

"Honestly it wouldn't have mattered Sherlock. You could have had a slab of granite for a bed and I still would have stayed forever...but yes, this is comfortable."

He grinned, pleased with himself. "That's because I know how to properly chose a mattress. I don't buy slabs of granite!"

"No you do not...I hated Tom's mattress," she added with a groan.

Sherlock's eyes shot over to her again. "Really?...and yet you still managed to have quite a lot of-"

"Did it ever occur to you Sherlock, that I was only saying that in an attempt to make you jealous?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

He stared back at her, then shifted his eyes in thought. "Well...there's always something I miss isn't there? Apparently that method was wasted on me at the time. Glad to have the clarification now though."

"I thought you might be." She smiled in amusement.

"Excuse me while I happily amend some of the information in my mind palace," he said simply.

Molly dissolved in laughter.

 


	3. Who's Flat is it Anyway?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two men in Molly's life are having a difficult time living together. It's probably because the're more alike than the consulting detective would care to admit. Let's hope they can work out their differences!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Toby themed prompt comes from (fanfiction names) Bucky5 and hannahbananaroxsox. Thanks for this request! :)

"Who's the cutest boy in the world? Oh yes you are! Did you miss me today? Yes I know you did! Aw, I missed you too my baby. Do you want something to eat? Of course you do, you're hungry aren't you? Yeah, let's get you some food!"

This was the sort of thing Sherlock Holmes now had to listen to, while watching wide eyed and a bit frightened. He wasn't quite sure how to react to this sort of thing. Emotions still were rather uncomfortable to him, to be frank. Though he was very much in love with Molly and learning to more freely display that love in his day to day life, it still felt somewhat foreign. So to hear these sort of overly sweetened expressions of affection pouring forth from Molly's mouth on a regular basis, was a bit strange.

And besides, he felt strongly that it was highly illogical...seeing as Toby was a cat.

"Hi Sherlock," she added simply, and dipped her head down to press a kiss on his lips as she passed by him and then continued into the kitchen.

"Yes, hello," he said slowly.

"Did you solve that case yet?" she added, as she began working to get food in Toby's dish.

"No, unfortunately. It's proving more difficult. I need John's assistance, but he'd being forced to stay with Mary and help with Lizzie. Apparently she's been especially fussy." Sherlock said with disdain.

"Oh the poor dear!" Molly said sympathetically. "Both her and Mary."

"And what about the case?!" he asked forcefully as he got up and tossed the paper aside that he'd been trying to occupy himself with. "There's an occasionally violent serial burglar on the loose at present, and his capture is being halted by the fussiness of a three month old!"

"Sherlock, you knew that John being a father would change things. It's fine, she won't be a baby forever."

"Yes, but by the time she's in primary school, the whole of London will have been robbed blind!" he huffed.

"Sherlock, relax! You're being dramatic again!" Molly said in irritation. Then she set Toby's dish down on the kitchen floor. "Here it is...no here Toby. There you go, just have some dinner...oh you want me to stay with you don't you? Ok maybe just for a minute," she said with an affectionate laugh.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the sight. "Molly, I don't believe your cat is terribly intelligent. He never sees the food you put down until you show it to him multiple times, he can't seem to improve in his ability to understand a simply no, and he continues to seek out affection from me when I've shown him quite clearly that I'm not a willing participant."

Molly stood up and walked over to Sherlock, wrapping her arms around his waist. She looked up at him and smiled humorously. "Well I can empathize with Toby on that last one. It creates a very special kind of torment to be cast aside by Sherlock Holmes so very many times." She pressed a warm kiss to his throat.

"Mm, you'll be reminding me of that till the day I die," he said ruefully.

"Rightly so," she answered brightly, then released him to return to the kitchen.

"But honestly Molly, how can you live with this animal?! He's unbelievably dim and incredibly selfish!"

"Sherlock, you're not giving him a chance. He's very sweet. But yes, cats are selfish. That's pretty much their nature. They're rather like, oh I dunno...ah yes! Sociopaths!" she grinned.

"Well he doesn't seem very high functioning to me," Sherlock grumbled, and headed up the stairs to what was now his established home lab.

Molly giggled at the clash between the two men in her life. She knelt down next to Toby who was still happily eating away. "You be nice to daddy," she whispered while scratching his head. "He's less than pleased. Be the bigger man. I know you can do it. Yes, I know you can!"

Toby didn't make any answer, and kept on eating. But Molly was still pretty sure that there was a better chance of Toby making the first move for peace. She cringed though a moment later, when Toby finished his dinner and made his way happily over to Sherlock's chair. He settled in for a nap after shoving his head affectionately against the chair's arm.

"Oh lord," she muttered to herself. "This could get ugly."

* * *

Sherlock adjusted the dials on his microscope and leaned down to press his eye to the lens. He was trying to relax and focus on building some actual evidence in the case against this burglar. John had promised to join him on the hunt as soon as he had anything substantial, and Sherlock was hoping that wouldn't take too much longer.

The table suddenly jostled, and Sherlock's head shot up. Toby pranced over to the microscope and happily rubbed the side of his face against on of the dials in a way that could only be described to Sherlock as painful.

"Kindly get your face off of my microscope!" he growled at the cat. Toby only purred louder and began rolling all over his papers joyfully.

Sherlock groaned in frustration and was happy to then answer his mobile that began ringing.

"Yes John."

"Sherlock, any leads? I can help if you'd like."

"Oh yes, please do! I'm bored out of my mind here, and I'm irritated as well. It's becoming less and less appealing to live in the same space as a cat!" He began trying to pull his important papers out from under the animal, which only succeeded in making Toby believe he was initiating some sort of a game. Toby began batting at Sherlocks hands each time he tried to pull a paper away.

John laughed happily. "Somehow I think I'd very much enjoy seeing that play out...but yes, let's meet up and you can show me what you've got."

The two men made plans and were both very happy to be able to get out of the house and do some serious work. Sherlock left the flat and had to resist the urge to leave the doors wide open as an invitation for Toby to go on a permanent exploration of the city.

Only the potential wrath of Molly held him back.

* * *

The door to 221B flung open and the shut loudly as Sherlock came practically bouncing in.

"Oh hi! I was wondering if you'd get in before I was asleep this time," Molly said peeking her head around from the kitchen.

"I did it! I finally got him Molly!...well, we go him. John helped as well," he added, trying to remember to give credit to others at times.

"Oh lovely! You've been out and about so much the past few days, I've barely seen you. A few texts haven't been much to go on. And I don't even know if you came to bed at all the past two nights."

"I did. Only briefly though. Couldn't sleep much. I probably didn't spend more than a couple hours sleeping." He chucked his coat and scarf on the hook by the door.

"You must be exhausted. Oh and hungry too! I wasn't planning on much since I didn't know if you'd even make it back for any dinner. I was just going to make some eggs and toast for myself. Want some?"

"Mm, yes. That would be fine," he said cheerfully as he marched around the flat, feeling pleased with himself. "It was quite an evening! Ended in a chase. Makes it all the more exciting once we actually make the capture! Really gets the blood pumping!"

"Well I'm glad it all worked out and you both weren't hurt."

"Yes, we managed to avoid it. Though I did come close to being shot."

Molly immediately set down the pan she'd taken out of the cupboard. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, then rushing over to where he stood by the window. "Close? How close?" she asked while clutching his face.

Sherlock looked down at his suddenly desperate girlfriend, and the corner of his lips crept up in a slow smile. He slid his hands around her waist as he answered in a low rumble.

"What if I said _very_ close? Would that heighten your concern?"

Molly rolled her eyes, recognizing his expression, and swatted lightly at his chest. "Stop it! I'm serious. I don't like to hear about you almost dying unless I'm the one controlling things behind the scenes!"

"Oh I'm serious too," he mimicked, then dipped his head down to initiate a intense kiss. His hold around her tightened and he deepened the kiss further till Molly pulled away a bit.

"But, you haven't eaten in a while. Didn't you want dinner?" she asked in an already shaky voice.

"Very much so...bedroom...now." and he threw himself back into their kiss.

Sherlock continued kissing Molly as he walked her backwards through the sitting room, and the kitchen, and down the hallway till they made it into the bedroom. He used his foot to then kick the door closed behind them on their way over to the bed where they collapsed inelegantly. Sherlock was busily trying to undo buttons on Molly's jumper while moving his mouth down to her neck...and then the scratching began.

His head shot up and the both of them looked over to the direction of the door where Toby had begun clawing and meowing loudly. Sherlock looked back down at Molly and formed a sentence as quickly as he could.

"Ignore him- I'm sure he'll go away soon." He dove back to the curve of her neck.

"I...dunno Sherlock. He hates it when the door is closed. And he probably wants dinner."

"Yes- I know how he feels!" Sherlock shut them both up for a while by returning his lips to hers.

The ruckus outside the door only continued and became louder and more insistent. Sherlock had finally succeeded in removing the frustrating jumper and throwing it on the floor when Molly sat up and looked at him hesitantly.

"Why don't I just go and feed him first. It won't take long."

Sherlock groaned and let his face fall forward onto the bed before raising it again to look at her. "Molly, believe me, this won't take long either!"

Her expression then turned to a grimace. "Sorry Sherlock, but was that meant to sound like an enticing offer?" and she began inching her way to get off the bed.

"Molly, wait!" He then desperately tried to dig himself out of the hole he'd just made. "Sorry- I just...I meant, I've barely seen you in days!- Forget what I said, this will take a very very long time!" he said, trying to sound convincing.

"Mmm, well in that case the cat can't wait then, can he?" She got up fully and made her way to open the door and she headed to the kitchen with a then very happy Toby prancing behind her.

Sherlock glared at the cat as it wound around Molly's legs and he collapsed on the bed again. It was going to be a longer evening than he'd been hoping for.

* * *

Sherlock drifted slowly from his restful sleep, into the realities of the daylight. He began to stir a bit and sighed as he woke but didn't open his eyes yet. The bed was warm and he was comfortable, and he didn't want to leave it quite yet. He felt Molly touching his hair and smiled to himself. He was pleased that she hadn't left for Bart's yet, because he'd rather she stay right here for as long as possible. He felt gentle tugs at his curls on the pillow, then felt finger press in closer against his scalp...wait...Sherlock felt something rather sharp at that point, and then also realized that he could hear something rumbling near his ear.

That's when his eyes flew open and he turned his head on the pillow. Sherlock let out a small yelp and jerked his head backward when he was greeted by the fluffy orange face of Toby right by his face. Toby blinked, unfazed, and continued to reach for his hair and purr.

"Absolutely not! This is not...your area! Go away!"

Toby barely moved, and then just started kneading the pillow and continuing to purr since he could no longer reach the soft hair that was his first choice. Sherlock groaned quietly and gathered the sheet around him so he could leave the bed.

* * *

Molly heard her phone chime and checked the message she'd received.

TOBY HAS CROSSED A LINE. -SH

Molly laughed to herself and shook her head as she sent off a response.

OH DEAR. WHICH LINE HAS HE CROSSED THIS TIME?- MH

HE WAS TRYING TO FORCE HIS AFFECTIONS ON MY HAIR. -SH

YOU CAN'T BLAME HIM SHERLOCK...THAT HAIR OF YOURS IS RATHER IRRESISTIBLE. MAKES PEOPLE DO CRAZY THINGS. -MH

IT'S ONLY ALLURING TO HEAR YOU SAY IT. I DON'T CARE FOR YOUR CAT FEELING THE SAME WAY! -SH

TRY NOT TO KILL EACH OTHER BEFORE I GET HOME. XXX -MH

* * *

A few hours later in the day, Sherlock came wandering down the stairs from having been in his lab. He walked into the sitting room and froze. There was Toby, curled up happily on his chair. This had become a common occurrence since Molly's move into 221B. Sherlock always hated the times when this happened without Molly's presence. She had the ability to move Toby without losing an arm. Sherlock, on the other hand, hadn't mastered that skill.

He saw that Mrs Hudson had come and left his tea by his chair as well. He sighed in irritation. All he wanted was to sit in his chair and drink his tea in peace. But this ridiculous cat was making it impossible to relax in his own home! He resolved to put an end to this once and for all.

"You will be moving now Toby. Don't act like you don't hear me. I'm going to pick you up, and I'm going to move you to John's chair. I will allow you to sit in John's chair, he doesn't need it so frequently. You can't just take over like you own the place! That is hardly the reason I brought you here. You are here purely because I love Molly, and she's foolish enough to love you! So let's settle this!"

Sherlock hesitantly stepped over to the cat who still hadn't bothered to stir from his sleep. He finally reached down and slid his hands under Toby and lifted him quickly, transferring to John's chair and then immediately claiming his place in his own chair again.

"There. This is how it's supposed to be," Sherlock said with a smile, pleased that he'd gained a victory.

Toby had of course awoken now. And almost as soon as Sherlock had picked up his cup of tea, the cat jumped down from John's chair, walked over, and jumped back up onto Sherlocks chair and right onto his lap.

"Oh, no no no! Toby, you're not welcome! Why would you want to sit on the lap of a person who doesn't even like you?" He tried moving his legs a bit to encouraged the cat to move.

Instead Toby began purring and rolled over a bit, exposing his fluffy stomach and clearly requesting some scratching. Sherlock rolled his eyes and peered down at the animal. He couldn't help in that moment though, thinking back to when his beloved Red Beard had always insisted on rolling over to get his belly scratched. It was stupid to compare the two creatures, he knew. They were so completely different. But all the same, having that image in his head began to soften his expression. He considered his options. Getting up would help nothing. Toby would get right back on his chair. If he pushed the cat off his lap, Toby would likely come right back as well.

Sherlock finally settled back against the chair and took a sip of his tea. Then after another moment he reached down and begrudgingly, at first, started rubbing Toby's stomach. A few minutes past though, and the pattern continued. Toby purred, Sherlock scratched, and he drank his tea. It somehow became... pleasant and comfortable. And a couple hours later, they were still there in the same spot when Molly came home from the hospital.

She walked in and there was Sherlock sitting in his chair, reading, and Toby was happily half asleep on his lap. It was the last thing she expected to see upon returning home that day.

"Um, hi," she said quietly, afraid she'd upset the balance by even uttering a word.

"Ah Molly, hello."

"I see you've worked out your differences." She set her things down and went to the kitchen.

"Oh this," he said casually, and cleared his throat. "It's nothing. Just sort of...happened."

"Ah. Well it's lovely." She tried her best not to smile too broadly.

"As I said, it's nothing." Toby looked up lazily at Sherlock, beginning to purr again. "I'm sure he understands this will hardly become a daily occurrence."

Toby had a hard time grasping that though...especially since it did indeed become a daily occurrence.


	4. They're Just So Ordinary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello! Here's some more fluff for all you readers. This one is thanks to the prompts of Sherlockedinseattle and Bucky5! Hope you guys all enjoy this one! I'm curious to know if anyone can guess what this chapter is about just by the title. It's a direct quote from the show, and I'll be interested to see if anyone picks up on it... Let me know! ;)

Molly woke up and heard Sherlock up already and talking to someone. She pulled on his dressing gown and crept down the hallway and into the kitchen. There was a very unfamiliar tone to Sherlock's voice as he spoke to this person, whoever they were.

"Of course you would have been told! At some point... I'm not making light of it! I just didn't feel the need to- Right, yes, I understand... Oh really, do we have to?- Yes. Yes, fine. Alright, I'm sure we can make it... It's really not necessary though. Please don't make a big thing of this... Yes but- Ok, fine. Alright, I'll see you then."

Molly peered over at Sherlock who was pacing around the sitting room on the phone. He eyed her a bit nervously.

"Oh yes yes, you too," he said quickly and then hung up.

"W-what was that all about? Was that John?"

"No. That was mummy."

"Im sorry?"

"Er, my mother... She's spoken to Mycroft, and he's been kind enough to fill her in on all the latest developments in my life!" he said sarcastically, and then set his lips tightly together.

"You're referring to... me?"

"Yes, obviously." He collapsed into his chair.

"So, you hadn't told them that you were, with someone?" She took a seat in John's chair, across from him.

"Nope," he answered, widening his eyes and punctuating the P.

Molly's expression fell a little and she looked at her hands in her lap. It took a minute for Sherlock to look at her and read her the way that he really needed to.

"Molly?" he asked, softening his voice.

"Hm?"

"I didn't need to tell them. I don't need their approval of you. I want to be with you, and that's absolutely all I ever need to know. I'm not hiding you away, in the way that you're thinking I am right now. So stop thinking it."

"Oh. Well, good... But that's not always the point is it? I mean, you don't just tell your parents things to get their approval. You do it to include them. To just keep them involved in your life."

Sherlock huffed out a short laugh. "Molly, have you ever known me to 'keep my family involved in my life' before? I've never been particularly motivated to do that seeing as my brother aggressively involves himself in my life on a very regular basis. If I can avoid the fuzzy family activities, I always try to do so."

"Well, I think you'll need to make some sort of effort now. Or perhaps you'll just need to realize that I will."

Sherlock's frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I'd hate to have them think that I don't want to know them. I would like to know them! So, I'll just have to do that myself if you won't facilitate it."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and let his head fall back against the chair for a moment. Then he looked at her again. "Well, in this case neither you or I need to do anything. Well, nothing except show up, that is. Because everything has already been done. What I didn't explain yet is that my mother was in fact calling to request our presence for dinner this Sunday evening... As you may be able to gather from my side of the conversation, I was given little choice in the matter." He looked defeated.

"Oh really?" Molly's eyes lit up. "Well that sounds brilliant! I'm so glad! Oh! Did she ask us to bring anything? I should bring something."

"No she didn't."

"Sherlock you should have asked! I can't bring nothing, going to meet your parents!"

"Oh for God's sake! It's just a dinner with my parents!"

Molly leapt over onto his lap and grasped his face. "Yes Sherlock! It's a dinner with your parents. The first dinner I'll have with your parents. The first real time I'm meeting them! I'm madly in love with you and can't imagine ever being with anyone else in the world. And these are the two people who, amazingly enough, created you and raised you. So stop acting like it's not a big deal, because it is! It is to me."

He stared back at her silently, then pursed his lips.

"Fine," he said quietly.

Molly smiled sweetly and pressed a kiss on his mouth. "Yay! I'm so excited now! When you get a chance, text me your parent's number so I can call and ask what to bring."

"Oh alright."

Then Molly tipped her head in thought. "Wait, you haven't ever done this before have you? I mean, introduced a girl to your parents."

Sherlock's eyes shifted quickly, then went back to her. "No..."

"Ah. So you'd be nervous then." She said raising her eyebrows in teasing.

"I most certainly am not nervous! I told you, I don't need their approval!" He lifted her off of his lap and went over to the door to begin pulling his coat and scarf on. Molly bounced over to where he stood.

"You're especially adorable when you're trying to cover up the fact that you care!" Molly giggled, while tugging the scarf down to kiss him again. Sherlock softened again, and they clung together for a few moments before Molly pulled slowly away.

"Will you be back tonight?" she whispered.

"Yes, I'll text you," he whispered back, and then pressed another brief kiss to her lips before leaving the flat.

Molly watched him leave, and then spent the rest of the day nervously and excitedly thinking all about the impending dinner at the Holmes'. She was meeting Sherlock's parents. It was such a 'normal couple' sort of thing to do. It was pretty thrilling. But it got her thinking...

Sherlock, and Mycroft... those two men were the product of the Mr and Mrs Holmes that she was about to meet this weekend. Sherlock, and Mycroft...

"My God..." she whispered to herself, "what must their parents be like?"

This could be an interesting dinner.

* * *

"Molly, honestly, you don't have to worry about how you look. You've changed three times already, and there was nothing wrong with the first outfit," Sherlock said nonchalantly as he sat reading emails while Molly rushed around the flat. She then stopped in front of him.

"Oh God, can your parents deduce people too? Will they be able to tell I've changed three times?!"

"Molly, relax!" he said firmly, standing up and taking her face between his palms. "The only person who may be able to tell would be Mycroft."

"Mycroft? Is he coming too?"

"Oh, did I not tell you? I thought for sure I had. Yes, he's actually sending a car around to pick us up in about..." he glanced at his watch, " a half hour."

"Well, thanks for telling me now Sherlock! Any other family that will be present that I should know about?"

"Hmm, nope. That about covers it. You look fine, everything will be fine, stop worrying." He sat back down and went back to his emails.

Right on time, Mycroft phoned Sherlock to say that the car was almost there, so he and Molly went downstairs.

"Ah Molly, and how are you this evening? Though I do believe I can guess. Feeling a bit of pressure I'd imagine," Mycroft said smoothly as they all got into the black car.

"Shut up Mycroft. We could be relaxing at home this evening if it hadn't been for you playing informant!"

"Somebody has to communicate with mummy. If you don't, then the burden naturally falls on me."

"Oh yes, naturally!" Sherlock scoffed. "Seeing as you assigned yourself long ago as my third parent, what else would you do but report all the happenings in my life back to the home base?!"

"Would both of you _shut up_!" Molly yelled suddenly.

Both men did as they were told and looked at her. Molly sighed loudly.

"This isn't a big deal to you two, but it is to me. If you would kindly refrain from turning it into an unpleasant evening, I would be forever grateful! I'd like to be able to focus on getting to know your parents without having to listen to you both snapping at each other all night... Moycroft, Sherlock loves you- Shut up Sherlock!- and he appreciates everything you've done for him, especially recently. But he also doesn't like to feel as if you're watching and documenting his every move. Especially to his own mother!"

Molly then turned to Sherlock. "Listen Sherlock, Mycroft is constantly doing what he thinks is best for you and just wants to keep you safe and happy. He lied to an entire nation because of his love for you. But he has somehow gotten the impression that you won't take care of yourself if he doesn't. Not hard to understand why. Maybe if you were a bit closer to your family and kept them in the loop a bit more, he wouldn't feel the need to keep you under surveillance and in turn report his findings to your mother. _There_! Are we all friends now?!"

Both men stared at her wide eyed and then Mycroft raised his eyebrows in recognition to Sherlock.

"Oh good." Molly's voice returning to it's normally sweet sound. "Let's have a lovely evening then, shall we?"

As they climbed out of the car a half hour later, Mycroft said under his breath to Sherlock, "You know, I've never been so unconcerned for your well being as I am this evening. I'm pretty sure that if you don't take care of yourself, that woman will see that you live to regret it."

"Yes well, you may also want to keep in mind that she seems more than capable of holding you accountable for your actions. And let's be honest, she does like me best." Sherlock grinned at his brother.

The three of them walked up to the door and stood expectantly as Sherlock rang the bell. As they heard someone approaching the door, Molly grasped Sherlock's hand.

"Oh boys, hello!" Mrs. Holmes said with a bright smile. "And hello Molly, come in all of you."

Once inside, Molly was given a hug and kiss on the cheek from Mrs Holmes, and Mr Holmes came around the corner to give her a hug as well. She immediately felt an attachment to the two of them, as she could see the resemblance and could feel the warmth in their eyes the same way she could feel it when she looked at Sherlock.

"You didn't have to bother Molly! I told you there was no need!" Mrs Holmes said as she took the bottle of wine that Molly had brought. And the five of them made their way into the kitchen where lovely aromas were to be found.

"Well I couldn't bring absolutely nothing," she said shyly.

"Don't be silly dear, you're bringing yourself! You're practically a walking miracle! Isn't she darling?"

"She certainly is," Mr Holmes agreed with a mischievous smile.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. He was pretty sure he had an evening of parental insults in the form of compliments to Molly ahead of him.

"Honestly Sherlock, how long has this been going on? You couldn't very well keep her to yourself forever!" Mrs Holmes smacked his arm lightly.

"Why ever not? She is in love with _me,_ not the rest of you!" he answered with an air of importance.

Molly responded by moving over next to him and slipping an arm around his waist. She looked up at him and smiled, and Sherlock kissed her forehead quickly. Mrs Holmes froze where she stood and pressed a hand over her heart.

"Good God, would you look at that? How absolutely marvelous! I honestly never thought I'd see the day... Mycroft!" she suddenly thundered at her other son. "Why can't you find a nice girl?!"

Mycroft looked as if he was beginning to regret holding the responsibility for this evening taking place. "Mummy, you probably remember I'm a bit busy. Running the country and all that. Not as if I simply have to catch a few crooks once in a while in between cutting up body parts for fun."

The two Holmes boys gave each other a look.

"Mrs Holmes, can I help you with something?" Molly said, stepping away from Sherlock and trying to shift the conversation.

"Oh it's nothing really! Just some stew and bread. If you'd like to help me with the bread and plates and things, you're very welcome. Boys, why don't you go sit for a while. It's too crowded in this kitchen and I can't even think with you all in my way!"

Suddenly Molly could hear Sherlock clear as day in his mother's voice and she had to control herself and refrain from giggling. Sherlock gave her a look and Molly smiled, telling him she was fine. The men walked out and Molly was then left with Mrs Holmes.

"There, now they're gone. So now you can be honest with me. I do hope that Sherlock is treating you properly!" Mrs Holmes said, giving her a serious look.

"Oh yes, he's wonderful! Well, I mean, he's still Sherlock... you know..." and Molly hesitated. Did she need to explain Sherlock's oddities to his own mother? Probably not. Yet it still felt a bit strange to speak to her about the particulars of her relationship with him.

"Oh trust me, I know!" Mrs Holmes said with a laugh. "So... you really love him, don't you?"

Molly looked at her a little shyly. "Um, yes I do. I love him very much."

"Well, you've really got your work cut out for you, that's for sure. But I'm so pleased he broke down and opened up to you. You're not like him. And that's exactly what he needs. Someone to balance him out. I can already tell you make each other happy. And that's all I could ever hope for! I know what you did for him before too. Mycroft told me how much you've done for Sherlock over the years. We'll all be forever in your debt. You helped keep my son alive, and a mother couldn't ask for any greater gift. And I couldn't hope for a better woman for him to be with."

"You're very kind, Mrs Holmes, I appreciate it."

"Please, call me Violet! And don't be a stranger in the future either! I worry about Sherlock so, and he barely ever calls." she said with a sigh.

"Well, don't feel badly, he barely calls me either. He prefers to text. Do you know how to text, Violet?"

"Oh, well, I'm not sure. Mycroft got us mobile phones a while back, but to be honest I barely know how to use it!"

"Well, Violet, don't you worry. If you get your phone after dinner, I'll show you how to send and receive text messages. I guarantee you'll get much more out of Sherlock that way!"

Mrs Holmes got out plates and napkins. "Oh I would love that! We'll plan to do that while the boy are outside pretending not to smoke," she said with a wink.

Molly giggled and helped Mrs Holmes carry the food and things into the dining room. She was beginning to like this family. And they were so... normal. It was mind boggling how normal they were. She wondered how these poor people ever managed to stay sane with those two for children! She'd heard John say once that they weren't like Sherlock and Mycroft, but it was especially striking to witness it first hand.

"That's ridiculous, Mycroft! John is not going to stop working with me! He's just working a bit less than he had before." They heard Sherlock speaking forcefully as they walked into the dining room which was connected to the sitting room.

"Things change when you have a family, brother mine. Perhaps you should start considering the possibility of a _real_ job for yourself."

"Molly would never want me to change what I do! She understands that it's _who I am_!"

Molly stuck her head into the sitting room. "We're going to eat... and I'm sure you both have excellent enough memories to recall what I said in the car on the way over here." She gave them both piercing looks.

"You'd never want me to stop being a consulting detective would you, Molly?" Sherlock asked desperately, ignoring her comment.

Molly sighed. "Of course not Sherlock, as long as it's what makes you happy."

Sherlock gestured aggressively at Molly while looking at Mycroft, who only responded by rolling his eyes. Then they all headed into the dining room.

Dinner was eaten with thankfully little conflict. Molly spent most of the time chatting with Mr Holmes. She wanted to get to know him as well. And Mr Holmes was fascinated by her line of work. He wanted to hear all about what she did, and in what ways she would typically assist Sherlock in his investigations. He had a softer personality than his wife, she could clearly see. He was even less like their sons than their mother.

"Sherlock, how did you manage to get such a lovely and intelligent woman?" his father asked after a while. Mr Holmes smiled warmly at Molly and nudged her.

"Why exactly do you all believe this is some sort of miracle?" Sherlock questioned. "Why should I be incapable of finding an attractive and intelligent woman? I am not completely unattractive or inept. Would you be less surprised if I had come here with an ugly idiot?"

"Probably," Mycroft interjected. "An ugly idiot could at least use desperation as an excuse."

And that earned him a smack on the arm from his mother which made him wince.

"Well you took long enough Sherlock." his father went on. "I didn't know your mother nearly so long, and still I couldn't possibly have resisted her charms!" The man shot his wife a affectionate glance.

Violet Holmes' response was so very... Sherlock like. She merely rolled her eyes and huffed quietly. But then Molly saw a slight smile creep across her lips as she momentarily met her husband's eyes. Molly smiled to herself as well. It was endearing to watch. She could tell that they worked well together.

About an hour later, Sherlock and Mycroft wandered back inside after having been in the yard for a bit. They came into the sitting room to find their father reading by the fire place, and Molly and their mother sitting on the couch.

"Oh, it's simple enough! I'll surely be able to handle this. You're quite handy to keep around, Molly dear... Mycroft!" she then bellowed at her eldest son. "All these years you've been spying on your brother and reporting back to me, and yet you've never bothered to tell me how I can best contact him myself!"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, mummy," he answered in a haughty tone.

"Well, no matter now. I can get ahold of Sherlock myself whenever I like!"

"Oh can you now?" Sherlock questioned as he took a seat on the other side of Molly and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"That's right. Molly has taught me how to text," she said proudly. "So you'd better answer your mother if I contact you!" She pointed a warning finger in his direction.

"As a matter of fact, I probably will. I must say Molly, that was a rather brilliant idea on your part. I'll be much less likely to ignore you now mummy," he said flatly, then shot his mother a grin.

"Oh my God!" Molly suddenly exclaimed. She reached around Sherlock and grabbed a picture frame that sat beside the couch. "Is this you two?"

"Sadly yes. We were such idiots back then." Mycroft said with disgust.

Molly stared at the picture of the two boys who were dressed nicely, but were also clearly in the midst of playing outside. Mycroft actually had his arm around Sherlock. And Sherlock was in a word- Adorable. He was probably about five or six. He looked sweeter. Perhaps less jaded by whatever life had thrown at him in his adult years. He looked almost innocent. Other than that, he was the same. The beautiful eyes, the face, the hair.

"Sherlock, please tell me I wont have to die before I see another little face like that with a head full of dark curls," his mother shot over at him.

"Mother..." he muttered through clenched teeth.

"Violet, don't push them! Perhaps they're not ready," Mr Holmes interjected, glancing up from his book by the fire.

"Excellent deduction father!" Sherlock said quickly. "In fact it may be one of the only accurate deductions you've ever made."

"We're not rushing anything," Molly said meekly. "We really haven't been together very long."

"Ah well, perhaps I will die without grand children then!" Mrs Holmes used her expertly tuned motherly skills of guilt tripping. "I know I certainly can't count on you!" she said, then looking up at Mycroft.

"Again mummy, the nation... trying to help run it... bit busy." He looked back at her wearily.

They stayed a bit longer, but soon decided that they'd like to get the drive back to the city done earlier rather than later. Mycroft seemed especially eager to go, having had his fill of watching Molly and Sherlock together and also knowing that he had to drop them at Baker Street before getting home himself.

"You've been fascinating my dear!" Molly realized this was high praise from a Holmes family member. "I am so glad that Sherlock finally broke down and brought you to meet us!" Mrs Holmes kissed her cheek.

"As if I was given much choice," Sherlock added as he allowed both his parents to give him a hug, and even seemed to enjoy it a bit.

Mr Holmes leaned in and hugged Molly, and as he pulled away he whispered. "Glad to have you. Got another normal one in the family to keep me company." He winked as the corner of his lips curled up in a sly smile, in exactly the same way his youngest son's did. Molly smiled back.

Once in Mycroft's car and on the road, Molly sighed happily.

"Well that was nice! I like them a lot, they're lovely. I'm so glad we did this. We should do it again soon."

At that, both men looked at her with wide horrified eyes.

She giggled a little. "Oh relax, I don't mean next weekend."

Sherlock suddenly snuggled over closer to Molly and murmured, "I'm not willing to share you so often. You were irritatingly popular tonight." He kissed her soundly and Molly automatically clung to him.

Molly was happy. She loved the things about Sherlock that were so unusual. But somehow it was lovely to have gotten to know his parents and found them to be so decidedly ordinary. And Sherlock was, despite his protest about the happy family gathering, pretty content as well. He tended to like showing off. And if he was able to show off the woman he loved, that was pretty satisfying. And of course the fact that Molly had taught his mother to text was also pretty impressive. In short, Sherlock didn't want Molly going anywhere, and it a pleasant feeling to know that his family didn't either... Well, at least his parents didn't.

The sound of Molly giggling happily against Sherlock's lips was interrupted by Mycroft's said groan of irritation.

" _Do_ try to control yourselves. No need to get started on the grandchildren this very instant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can all see, I kept it happy with the Holmes parents. I mostly care about how the characters are portrayed in the BBC series, and in my opinion the little that we see of Mr and Mrs Holmes is pretty positive and normal. No abusive mother or absent cheating father to be found as far as I can see! Though I realize that this is all fan fiction, so the point isn't to always stick to the show. But anyway, that's how I like to look at it. :)


	5. Soft the Drowsy Hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This one comes to you readers compliments of the prompt from cliffhanging! I loved this idea because I can totally see this being a bump in the road of Molly living with Sherlock. It was certainly lots of fun to write! Hope you enjoy cliffhanging, and maybe your husband can take a few pointers! ;)
> 
> The title was found thanks to the master Google search skills of my consulting writer Pillowslave. Apparently it's from a song called All Through the Night by Sir Harold Bolton. Thanks Pillowslave, you're the bestest! :)

"The sister in law, John! Can't you see it? It's screamingly obvious!"

"Wait, w- is there a sister in law? I can't even remember him mentioning a sister in law." John massaged the bridge of his nose.

"He mentioned her once, but he barely even had to! It's obvious!" Sherlock flew about the flat, speaking at lightening speed.

"She was angry, of course she was. Her relationship with her sister was the absolute only close relationship she had. It was ripped away from her when her sister married that man. She's been bitter ever since, and especially because she's a bit unhealthily attracted to her brother in law. She becomes angry enough to wish that her sister was as unhappy as she is, in keeping with the old misery loves company mindset. She decides that she can't go through with killing her own brother in law, but succeeds in getting him run down and temporarily incapacitated. But she's clearly feeling guilty now with how she's been helping them through this difficult time." Sherlock whirled to look at John with his head tilted in question.

"Is this one of those cases in which you will advise me not to divulge all of the information I've discovered so as not to upset a balance of some sort, in hopes that they will all end up finding happiness in the long run?"

John stared at him for a moment, then blinked a couple times. "Um, honestly Sherlock, I have no idea right now. I've barely begun to process what you've just said... You're really on top of your game today aren't you? I mean, you always are, but today... wow. It's like you're- wait, you're not on anything are you?" John's face turned suddenly serious.

"Oh please! Why would I need anything like that? My mind is plenty alive! It's alive John, and it's working marvelously!"

"I can see that," he said quietly, hoping to encourage Sherlock to lower his voice which was plenty loud and cheerful.

Just then Molly came shuffling into the kitchen wearing Sherlock's dressing gown. She looked like she's just jumped from Bart's roof.

"Ah Molly! Good morning!" Sherlock exclaimed happily as he bounded over to her. John actually noted that she winced a bit as Sherlock grasped her face and kissed her firmly.

"Mm, hi," she mumbled, then went directly to the coffee maker.

"Molly, if I'm not mistaken you are due at Bart's in about a half hour. That is hardly enough time for you to shower and get yourself completely ready, and clearly you will be needing to..." but his words trailed off as he saw the way she was glaring at him.

"Well! No matter. You'll certainly look lovely no matter what!" He gave her an absentminded pat on the backside as he walked away from her and back over to John. Her gaze turned stony, but Sherlock didn't notice.

Sherlock went over to get his coat and then swung it around, putting it on quickly. "Well John, are you coming? We don't have all day! It's time to start doing something!"

John sighed as he pushed himself out of his chair. "Yeah ok, fine. I'm coming."

Sherlock went back over to Molly and kissed her again. "See you later Molly. Have a lovely day, and I'll look forward to seeing you this evening! Oh, and would you consider making that lovely chicken pie thingy you made last week? I could really enjoy that after all the cases I plan to solve today... if it's not too much trouble."

"Er, yeah actually. It is. It's a lot of trouble. I made that all from scratch last week when I had the day off," she said with a weary look.

"Oh, well no problem. Anything will be fine. Whatever you feel you can come up with will do... Come on, John, let's go!"

"See you later Molly." John added as he followed Sherlock to the door.

John got one wave from Molly that looked like it took a lot of effort, but not a word. He frowned as he left the flat and shut the door. He was pretty sure he'd never seen Sherlock so chipper and full of life... but Molly so very much the opposite.

* * *

Molly startled awake with a small gasp.

The violin. Again.

Molly picked up her mobile by the bed to check the time. It was after midnight. Her shift started at seven in the morning, and she's only just got to bed about an hour before. She was sure he'd end up coming right to bed as well, but apparently not. She groaned and threw the covers off, making her way into the sitting room.

"Hey Sherlock? Sherlock? Hey!" He finally turned. "I actually um, really need to sleep. Can you maybe just take a break for tonight?"

"Oh, that's... fine I suppose. Right, I'll just come to bed then."

"Well you can stay up if you'd like, but you'd really need to be quiet."

"No, it's perfectly fine. I'll just come to bed," he said, obligingly putting his violin away and turning off the one remaining light and then following in Molly's footsteps toward their bedroom.

They climbed into bed and Molly felt like she was finally getting the rest and quiet she needed as her head hit the pillow. She let out a heavy breath... then Sherlock's arms encircled her. And he started kissing the back of her neck.

"Sherlock? Please, can I just sleep? I really need some rest. My shift starts early, I have to get up in less than six hours."

"Mm, fine. You do make it difficult though. How am I supposed to go to sleep with you looking so irresistible?" he whispered low in the dark.

"Irresistible? You've got to be kidding! I'm like the walking dead right now!"

"You make a lovely zombie," his voice vibrated against the back of her ear.

"Zombies eat brains Sherlock. So why don't you protect your precious brain and give me some space!"

Sherlock sighed and rolled over. "Not sure how I'll be able to get to sleep now." he said quietly, and was clearly trying to sound pitiful. Molly did not take the bait. She knew she'd be able to sleep but if he was forced to lie awake for a while, so be it. He could survive on far less sleep than she could!

Molly was wrong however. In less than ten minutes Sherlock was asleep, and she was still awake. Because Sherlock was snoring. He didn't do it all the time, but it happened on occasion. And it never failed to be a time when Molly really needed some rest. She spent an hour tossing and turning. And she even attempted to adjust his head as he slept to change the pattern of his breathing and improve things. That didn't help much. Finally Molly jumped out of the bed and stomped up to the lab and climbed into the spare day bed. By that time it was almost two in the morning, and because of all the commotion she'd already experience she wasn't able to relax her mind and fall asleep till around two thirty.

* * *

"Molly? Molly!" and she felt Sherlock's hands shaking her shoulders gently as she woke up.

"Hmm?" she moaned.

"It's six thirty Molly. Didn't you need to be at Bart's at seven?"

She shot up then. "Oh God! Oh no, you should have woken me sooner!" and she flew out of bed and rushed down the stairs with Sherlock following after her.

"I'm going to be so late, and I'm going to kill you for it!"

"What? I wasn't the one who told you to go upstairs without your alarm clock was I?"

"Oh no, you didn't! But you were the one who woke me up playing your violin, made moves on me when you finally came to bed, then proceeded to fall asleep before me and start snoring so I couldn't fall asleep! And I was much too out of it to even think about moving my alarm clock!"

Sherlock tilted his head in thought as she recited his crimes while throwing pajamas off and grabbing clothes to throw on. "I believe you'll find that none of those things were done with ill intent," he said slowly.

"Doesn't matter what your intent was Sherlock, you're still going to be the death of me! I'll be on a slab in my own morgue soon!" she practically growled.

"I don't believe I'm the only one who can be dramatic," he said under his breath as he left the room.

Molly glared at him as he walked away and resisted the urge to throw something at him. She got dressed as quickly as possible, threw her hair up in a messy bun, brushed her teeth, and grabbed her bag. As she was making her way out, she realized something. And in the moment, it was most infuriating.

Sherlock was fully dressed. He'd been fully dressed when he woke her up actually. No jacket, but he was in a pair of dress slacks and a white shirt. He looked pristinely put together and devastatingly handsome as he leaned over looking at the screen of his lap top. He, of course, noticed that she was looking him over as she put her shoes on.

"Problem?" he asked suspiciously.

"Why are you all... dressed? I mean at this time of day you're either asleep, or you're up but in your pajamas or a sheet."

Sherlock took a deep breath and glanced around him with bright eyes. "Well, I feel rather... invigorated. It's a lovely day isn't it? I woke up around six and felt so nicely rested that I just had to get the day started! I've already called John and asked him to come over as soon as he can. I'd like to have a productive day, there's a number of cases I plan to take... What?"

Molly stood listening to him in fuming silence. _The stupid git feels invigorated_... "Oh nothing Sherlock! Nothing at all! Look, you go have a _productive_ day and enjoy yourself ok? I'll just do my very best not to fall flat on my face. See you later!" In one swift motion she was out the door and had slammed it shut.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and frowned at the strange behavior. Sometimes she was still rather difficult to deduce... but he felt warmed at the thought. He smiled to himself. He'd certainly never be bored!

* * *

The following week, Sherlock and John headed into Bart's for the purpose of examining the bodies of a couple young men who had been apparently robbed at gun point and then shot. Sherlock was already formulating theories in his head and John was having a hard time keeping up. Listening to him, and even walking with him.

"Sherlock, we're not in a race! Remember I can't comfortably walk as fast as you!"

"As I was saying, I've narrowed the possibilities down to about a half dozen. I'm fairly certain I'll narrow it down again by fifty percent more once I see the bodies and speak to Molly... I've broken my previous record John."

"What? What record? What are we talking about now?"

"My record for cases solved in one day. And not stupid trivial cases either. It was previously five, but yesterday I solved seven. Seven cases John! In one day! I am on fire!" he growled pleasantly.

"Yeah, you do seem awfully... energetic lately." and John tried to hide a yawn. He was less than thrilled at the fact that Sherlock wanted to work harder and faster at the same time that he was parenting a small infant.

Sherlock marched happily into the morgue, and they were greeted by the sight of Molly bent over a vacant autopsy table, with her whole upper body rested along it. Sherlock cleared his throat and she jumped up, trying to adjust her lab coat quickly.

"Um, hi... You're here to see someone?" she said with a slightly heavy voice.

"I am indeed. The shooting victims from last night." Sherlock walked quickly over to grasp her face in his hands and press a kiss to her lips. But he looked at her face as he pulled away and began to frown.

Molly looked... horrible. She was pale, and there were dark circles around her puffy eyes which were normally so bright. Her hair was in a braid that was almost half falling out. And he knew that it was the same one that had graced her head from the previous day. This was truly such a change. He began to worry that something was really wrong. How long had she looked like this?

"Molly, you look..." he struggled to find appropriate and kind wording.

She responded by setting her mouth in a tight line and pushing his hands from her face. As she stalked away from him and went to get the autopsy reports, and spoke heatedly. "Oh yes yes! I look dreadful, Sherlock. I know! Believe me, I have to look at this haggard face in the mirror every day and I can't escape it!"

"Are you... ill?" he asked cautiously.

"Probably. Or at least I very soon will be! I'm sure my immune system is pretty well shot!" she slapped the folder down in front of Sherlock. "There. There's the autopsy reports on the two men. Read it yourself, I'm sure you can manage. I need to be off to grab myself another coffee. And no! I will not get you one!"

John stopped her as she was heading to the door.

"Molly, how much sleep are you getting? You look exhausted," he said kindly.

"Oh who knows? I'm not really keeping track anymore. It's too depressing!" She threw her arms up in frustration before crossing them over her middle.

"Oh we're sleeping wonderfully John! Never better actually! I realize now the benefits of getting longer and less interrupted sleep cycles. Really amazing! My brain has never been so highly functional." He grinned at them.

John looked at Molly who was looking at the floor, and honestly seemed like she could burst into tears at any moment. John placed a gentle hand on Molly's back and spoke to her again. "I'm actually more concerned with how _you're_ sleeping Molly, not how Sherlock thinks you're both sleeping."

Molly looked at him pitifully. She was begging for help with the look in her tired eyes. "John, I can't even manage right now. Honestly, I don't have the energy. Can you just... explain to him? Please? I wouldn't normally ask."

"Yeah, of course," he said with a comforting smile.

"What?" Sherlock questioned frowning at them both. "Explain what to me?"

Molly managed a tight smile at Sherlock, then she gave John a little grateful pat on his cheek before exiting the morgue.

"What exactly was all that about?" Sherlock demanded as he watched Molly walk away and down the hall.

"Sherlock, can you not tell that that woman is half dead from sleep deprivation?!" John asked pointing in the direction she'd gone.

Sherlock stared at him for a moment. "B-but we... we've been sleeping so much bet-"

"No! No, no. You mean _you,_ Sherlock. _You_ have been sleeping much better than you used to. But she's probably getting about half the sleep that she was used to!"

Sherlock tilted his head, considering this. "How much sleep do you think she requires?"

"I don't know Sherlock, probably something like seven or eight hours!"

His eyes widened. "That much? I've begun getting five or six hours straight every night and it's like a miracle!"

"She looks like she's going on even less sleep than that... Look, maybe you need to be a bit more conscious of her biological needs."

"I'm taking good care of that! She's very well satisfied!" Sherlock said defensively.

"No you idiot! Not _that_! I'm still talking about sleep!" John shook his head in disgust. "You need to set some ground rules for yourself. If she wants to sleep, no playing your violin in the sitting room. You could always go up to my old room. If she's asleep and you want to talk about a case, do that with your skull, or Toby. But for God's sake do not wake her up! And tell her to wake you up if you start snoring."

Sherlock whirled to face John with a look of horror. "I do _not_ snore! Why are people suddenly saying this?!"

"You do sometimes, Sherlock! You do! I've heard it, you cannot argue!"

He looked pouty as he stared back at John. Then he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Fine... I suppose I don't want her to end up ill. I'll- I'll try." he agreed quietly.

"Good. She'll very much appreciate it Sherlock, believe me. I now know first hand how bleak the world can look when you're sleep deprived. She'll be a new woman once she's feeling more rested. Just try to make an effort and I'm sure it'll help."

"If you say so... Alright, let's get this case done so I can formulate a plan."

"Best idea you've had all day." John gave Sherlock a pleased smile.

* * *

When Molly came home that evening carrying her bags, she was surprised when the door opened for her before she had the chance to even get out her key.

"Oh um, hi," she said as she walked in past Sherlock who then shut the door behind her.

"Come in, Molly, sit down," he said pulling her bags from her shoulder and dropping them to the floor.

"Oh ok, but I do need to feed Toby."

"Already done," he said as she sat with a thump on the sofa.

"Really? Are you hungry though? What should we eat?" she asked, and looked like she was going to try getting up again.

"No, Molly! Stay exactly where you are. I got take away from the fish shop and you don't need to do anything."

"W-what's all this about?" She looked up at him suspiciously.

"Apparently I have been slowly killing you by preventing you from getting your needed sleep. At least that's what John had led me to believe earlier today. I'd actually like for you to remain alive, in one piece, and functional, Molly Hooper. So I suppose I'll have to be more careful," he smiled.

"Oh. Ok. Well I'll just stay here then." She leant back against the sofa. Sherlock then sat down next to her.

"Should I... get you anything?" he finally asked.

"I'm not really hungry right now. Actually I'd really like to just have a bath." She started to get up.

"Oh right! A bath! John had texted me about offering that to you this evening. I'll just go start it." Then he was up and heading toward the bathroom.

Molly laid back on the sofa again as she heard the water start running in the tub. She actually started to doze a bit, and was already feeling awfully relaxed. She finally made herself get up though for the purpose of changing. She undid her mess of a braid and then practically tore off the clothes that felt so uncomfortable at the moment and slipped on one of Sherlock's dressing gowns. Then she went into the bathroom where Sherlock was standing back with hands in his pockets and sleeves rolled up as he watched the water level rise.

"I was just about to get you," he said especially softly as he turned around and his eyes swept over her smoothly.

She was absolutely dead tired, but she couldn't resist walking over and sliding her arms around Sherlock's waist to look up at him for a moment.

"You're very sweet to do all this," she whispered.

She smiled that he actually looked a bit shy for a second. "It was... really John's doing. You were wise to have him speak to me. I was, as usual, rather happy to remain focused on myself. I truly have been feeling so good for the past couple months. My mind and body have both been better than ever. I was quite happy to admit that you were the reason for this, but somehow I managed to overlook the fact that the change was not all good for you... Forgive me." and he lowered his face in order to touch his forehead to hers.

"You're forgiven, Sherlock. I knew it would be an adjustment. But I also knew it would be worth it. And it is. It's still worth it, even though I'm half asleep right now! I should have said something myself, but it sort of crept up on me slowly. And suddenly one day I was a bleary eyed mess, and then I was barely even thinking straight. So I'm sorry I've been so miserable too. But I promise I'll be better once I catch up on my sleep."

"You have nothing to apologize for Molly, though I do look forward to when you're feeling better... You should get in. It's almost full. And if you'll notice I put in some of that aromatherapy stuff you brought from your flat. The one that creates an ungodly amount of bubbles! According to the label it is also supposed to promote sleep... though I believe this would be an inaccurate experiment to test that theory. I think anything you see, smell, or hear would promote sleep at this point."

Molly grinned up at him and slid her hands up the front of his shirt and then around his neck. "Hmm, I don't know Sherlock. You're actually making me feel a bit more awake right now." and she lifted herself onto tip toes so that she could reach his mouth with her own. He reacted instantly and pulled her in tighter while deepening their kiss. But when his hand instinctively went for the sash that held the dressing gown together, he was brought back to his senses.

Sherlock pulled his lips off of hers suddenly and actually raised his hands in the air, purposefully not touching her. "No, no. John warned me about this. He said you may be especially... grateful for my consideration. But I was strictly instructed to remember that you're not in your right mind and that what you need is many uninterrupted hours of sleep. I am not to do anything to hinder that."

Molly still held onto his neck while looking up at him smiling and suppressing laughter.

"Unhand me, Molly Hooper," he said as seriously as he could manage, and tried very hard not to look down.

"Oh fine," she sighed and finally stepped away and toward the tub.

Sherlock made his way to the door and opened it to leave. She was just sinking into the bubbles when he turned before closing the door.

"I'll check on you in a bit, just to make sure you haven't passed out and drowned. But I plan to do some experimenting upstairs this evening in an attempt to busy myself while you relax."

"You do realize you're making me want you even more right now?" she said sweetly.

Sherlock drew a deep and controlled breath. "And on... _that_ note... I will take me leave." With that he closed the door behind him.

Molly dissolved into giggles that she tried to silence behind her hand. But after that, she lay back and enjoyed the hot water, and simply forgot about all her stresses. This was exactly what she needed. She had to remember to thank John profusely the next time she saw him!

* * *

The next morning Molly awoke pleasantly to the sun coming in through the crack between the drapes. She stretched and sighed. There was something so delicious about taking a hot bath and then crawling into bed to easily drift off to sleep... But then she looked at the clock. It was nine already!

Suddenly all the stress came flooding back. She leapt out of bed and raced down the hall to see Sherlock calmly reading in his chair.

"Sherlock! Did you shut my alarm off?! I know you're trying to be all sweet and caring, but you can't allow me to oversleep for work! I was supposed to be there an hour ago! I can't believe nobody's called looking for me..."

He got up quickly and stopped her hands which were beginning to fumble with the coffee maker. "Molly, Molly, stop! I didn't just shut your alarm off, I called you out of work today. You had personal days owed to you, and I though this was the perfect reason to use one. It's Friday, so now you have today and the weekend to sleep and rest as much as you like... Was that ok?" He looked a little unsure.

Molly let out a breath, which also released the stress that had just pooled in her chest. "Oh, yes! My God, absolutely that's ok! That's amazing. I think it's safe to say you've made up for all the sleep you cost me and more. I can't tell you how wonderful this sounds to have three days of nothing ahead!"

"Well, I don't tend to become quite so excited at the thought of _nothing_ , so I will be trying to take some cases. I assume you'll be fine here?"

"Of course I will." Then she bit her lip in thought as she smiled. "Exactly when were you going to be taking a case?"

"Soon." He glanced at his watch. "John should be here in about twenty minutes. And unless you plan to put on more than that sleep shirt, you may want to retreat to the bedroom, because a client should also be here about the same time."

"Oh..." her face fell a bit. "I missed you last night."

"Yes well, I felt it best to sleep upstairs since you were especially attractive to me last night, and because I've lately been accused of occasional snoring."

She laughed and gave him a quick kiss. "I think that was probably wise... but you will not be allowed to sleep without me tonight Sherlock Holmes. Don't even think about it." She slowly ran a finger across his chest and down his arm as she went past him to finish setting up the coffee machine.

Sherlock felt color actually rising in his face and he had to clear his throat to form a response.

"Trust me, Molly, I am thinking of nothing but the opposite right now."


	6. Prelude to a Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote a shorter chapter than is typical for me. But I figured it would be nice to break it up since I thought this section came out kind of nice all by itself. This chapter is sort of my own idea, but it leads into something that is actually a prompt from a couple of readers. So they will be named in the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy! ;)

"It's my pleasure, Mary. I'm always happy to see you both."

"You're a lifesaver, Molly. I can't believe I let myself run so low on nappies. And of course it had to be on a weekend when John and Sherlock are on a case an hour away!"

Molly crouched down on the floor where Lizzie was laying on a play mat staring up at the hanging toys above her head. She looked over at Molly's face and soon broke out in a crooked toothless grin while kicking her feet a bit. Molly picked the little bundle up and sat on the couch with her next to Mary.

"So how is it out there? Don't spare any details. Has anything exciting happened in the past few months? Have they invented hover crafts, or cured cancer, or do we have a king of England now?"

Molly laughed as she bounced Lizzie and gave her some sweet faces.

"It's not that exciting, Mary, really. You're not missing much. I'm sure it's much lovelier to stay home with you, isn't it, Lizzie? Yes it is!"

Mary sighed and fell back against the couch. "Oh come on Molly! You've got to give me something! I mean I'm not going to beat around the bush ok? I wasn't exactly a home body for most of my adult life. And it's not as if I'd ever, _ever_ want to go back to what my life was before. But my God! It's quite a leap to go from that, to being a stay at home mum! So if there's nothing interesting going on in London, how about you tell me what's been happening with you and Sherlock." Mary leaned forward with her eyebrows raised in expectation.

Molly shrugged a little. "Um, I'm not sure there's much to tell in that department either. We aren't that thrilling. You know Sherlock... and I'm living with him. And well... that's about it."

Mary's face fell. "You've got to be kidding me. See this is what irritated me these days. It is now my firm belief that anyone who is not blessed with a little bundle of joy should at every opportunity be dancing on table tops, experiencing fine dining, staying out well past the hour of nine in the evening, and having sex in strange places at strange times. If your'e not taking advantage of your freedom, it's a waste! And one day you'll be sorry!" Mary gestured to Lizzie.

"I'm not a very adventurous person though. I like our life. It's... nice. And I've never loved anyone like I love Sherlock. So, I couldn't be happier. And just to know that he's happy to be with me... it's an amazing feeling."

"Well I suppose that's very sweet, but what do you two do for fun? Where does Sherlock take you?"

"Take me?"

"Sure. Like, for a night out."

Molly looked around and pursed her lips. Mary's eyes widened as she watched her.

"Molly, you're a dating couple. Sherlock must take you out sometimes."

"Well, we're not really a dating couple. We just... live together."

"So essentially, you've jumped right into being an old married couple. That's what you're telling me."

Molly shrugged.

Mary shook her head while rolling her eyes.

"That Sherlock Holmes, I could kill him... Oh! Sorry Molly! Figure of speech. I would never, I mean I wouldn't even come close ever again... Anyway, he's got to make more of an effort. You do deserve a little fun. Don't argue Molly! I know you're crazy about the man, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't show you how much he cares once in a while!"

"Well, I certainly wouldn't mind if he took me out for a bit of fun sometimes," Molly finally admitted.

"Course not! You've got to enjoy it while you can. And then after you enjoy it, you can pick up Lizzie and let John and I go out and pretend to have some freedom again!"

"Oh that sounds lovely!" Molly's face really lit up at that suggestion and she gave Lizzie a kiss on the top of her head.

"Yes well don't get all excited about babysitting yet. I absolutely refuse to make you babysit for my date before you've even been taken on a proper date yourself... I'll have a word with Sherlock."

"Oh don't be silly, Mary, you don't have to do that!"

Mary smiled sweetly. "Oh yes I do, Molly... I'll talk him round."

* * *

"There's my little girl! I hope you were very nice to your mummy while I was gone. I kind of like her." John leaned in to kiss Mary while holding Lizzie close.

"Thank you for your help John. That case went as smooth as it could go I believe," Sherlock said in the doorway.

Mary stepped away from John and walked over to Sherlock.

"Hi," she said with a strangely sweet smile, then she leaned in to hug him. As she pulled away, her expression changed and she suddenly pulled her hand back and smacked the side of his head.

"Mary!" John exclaimed, though it was mixed with a laugh.

"What was that for?!" Sherlock asked as he stared down at her in shock. "I did nothing to almost get your husband killed this time! I don't believe I deserve any sort of punishment!"

"That one was actually for Molly! You are a rubbish boyfriend, Sherlock Holmes!" she said pointing an accusing finger at him.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Sorry, is this some sort of news? I believe we all already knew this. I never claimed not to be."

"It's true Mary," John added. "I'm not sure that's breaking news... But what did he do though? Is this something I haven't heard?"

"Is it true that you never take your lovely girlfriend out on a date?" Mary asked pointedly.

Sherlock looked around for a second. "A date? Why would I take her on a date? We live together. And besides, we did fake date."

Mary looked at John and motioned to his friend. "You see? This is what Molly is forced to put up with. And she's fool enough to love it! I don't think she'd ever complain. And not because she doesn't have the backbone, because we all saw her slap the deductive reasoning out of you. No, she would never complain because she loves you like crazy no matter what you do! Never seen a more unconditional love!... Oh, sorry darling, I didn't mean that. Yours is just as forgivingly unconditional." She smiled sweetly at John.

"I do realize I'm lucky to have her, Mary, are we really having this conversation again?" He looked at John in a plea for help.

"Don't look at me, mate, Mary's right. Molly takes you for exactly who you are and even for who you aren't. And that probably means that there's all the more reason for you to make a bit of effort from time to time. That woman deserves to feel appreciated!"

Mary slid over beside her husband and gave him a very loud kiss on the cheek.

"My point, Sherlock, is that you should think of something nice to do for Molly once in a while. And I do not mean taking her on a case! Yes I know she'd probably enjoy it, but it's not the same as taking her somewhere just for fun. Can you please promise me you'll try?"

Sherlock huffed out a sigh. "I'll try to come up with something so you can vicariously live through us, Mrs. Watson! Let's face it, that's what's really going on here isn't it? John, you'll need to take your wife out as well. She's beginning to arrange other people's social lives because of the lack of her own!" He smirked at them.

"Don't bother deducing me detective, I'm not trying to make a secret of it! I've already promised Molly a day with Lizzie as soon as you wise up and give her a little fun of her own. Then I'll be more than happy to live out my very own dreams!"

"Ok well that does it, Sherlock, now I'm really on Mary's side with this one. For the love of God, you get out there and take Molly on a date so that I can have a night out too!"

"Well then, I suppose I'll do it for you, John."

Mary immediately walked over and smacked Sherlock on the head again. "I'm going to pretend I didn't even hear that, Sherlock! You'll do it for you and Molly you idiot! Not for your _boyfriend_!" John then broke into a laugh.

Sherlock clutched his head for the second time and then walked over to John who was holding Lizzie. He leaned down to face her and she stared at him happily.

"I suggest you behave yourself, Lizzie. Your mother is a force to be reckoned with." He cupped the back of the infant's soft head and placed a kiss on her rosy cheek. Then he straightened up again and went back to the doorway.

"Well, I'll take my leave now before I end up with another incapacitating bullet wound. I'll be in touch, John... Mary, always a pleasure." and he leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

" _Always,_ Sherlock."

Sherlock left the Watson's flat and caught a cab. He spent the time it took him to get home in thought.

He wasn't opposed to spending time with Molly, of course. How could he be if he wanted to be in a relationship with her and want her living with him? But he never thought it was necessary, due to their close living conditions, to make specific arrangements to "spend time" together. Wasn't that what they did every day? The whole idea always seemed silly to him. But he did understand the concept of showing a person that you care for them. He did deeply care for Molly, and love her. And according to Mary, this was how a man was supposed to display such affection for a woman. Although he was sure that Molly knew how he felt by now, it wouldn't hurt to emphasize it.

He personally preferred doing the things with her that they usually did. Autopsies, cases, experiments, _other_ types of activities... But he did appreciate the pain of boredom. He was perfectly content to forever do those variety of things with the woman he loved, but perhaps she did get bored. Which is probably one of the reasons why Mary forbade him to take her on a date in the form of a case. He decided it was a reasonable thing to be expected of him, to come up with something new and interesting to do with Molly. So he set his mind to coming up with the perfect date for him and Molly.

And he was sure that if he set his mind to it, Molly would not be disappointed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm! Where will they end up going and what will they end up doing?! Well actually I already know. I'll get onto their actual date in the next chapter. It will be so very Sherlock! ;)


	7. Undertaking a Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello! It's date time readers! So first and foremost, this idea comes to us from at least a couple of prompts. I very much thank Sherlockedinseattle and Bucky5 for requesting a Sherlolly date. Sherlockedinseattle specifically mentioned the setting for the date which I thought was brilliant! And one of the lovely romantic activities on the date was Bucky5's idea. :)
> 
> Just a note, the location of their date is real. I found it online and it's amazing! I wish I could say I've been there myself, but I must confess that I describe the setting only based on maps and websites that google searches provided me with. So if there's any readers who are lucky enough to have visited personally, I hope I didn't mess anything up too much! Ok everyone, enjoy! ;)

By about a week later, Sherlock felt plenty ready to execute his plan for taking Molly on a date. And it was far from dinner and a film. He was pleased with himself though, that he'd managed to come up with a location that would hold appeal for both Molly and himself. Though he wasn't opposed to occasionally doing something purely for her benefit, he knew he'd be less than the best company if he was stuck doing something that didn't interest him at all.

Molly rolled over that Friday morning and saw that Sherlock was up and sitting in bed using his mobile phone.

"Looks like it'll be a lovely day outside," he announced.

"Mmm, good," she muttered in a still scratchy morning voice. She scooted over and leaned her head on Sherlock's chest, unwilling to get up right away.

"Fancy a bit of an outing today?"

Her head shot up and looked at him in question.

"Outing? What do you mean, outing? You're not taking cases today?"

"No, I'm not. I mean perhaps we could go out and do something together... for fun." He gave her a sideways glance before looking back to his phone.

Molly blinked, and stayed frozen looking up at him. So he continued.

"If you'd rather not-"

"No! No, I mean, yes I'd like to. I'd like to go somewhere for fun with you. Of course I'd like that. May I ask what brought this on?" Molly had to smirk a little.

"Does it...matter?"

"No, not really. But I think I know why you're doing it." Her smile widened.

Sherlock rolled his eyes slightly and sighed. Molly laughed and shifted herself a bit so she sat up with him, then she planted kisses on his cheek and neck.

"I don't care if Mary told you to take me on a date. As long as you're happy to do it. I'm not here to change you Sherlock Holmes, I hope you still remember that." Her chin came to rest on his shoulder.

He turned his head to look at her and his nose almost touched hers. "I remember," he said softly. And he put his mobile down beside the bed and wrapped arms around her, pulling her into a kiss. Molly hummed against his lips and pulled him down by the shoulders so that he fell on top of her.

"I like it here," she whispered when Sherlock finally broke away from her mouth. "Does this date have to involve leaving the bed?"

Sherlock let out a low slow rumble of a laugh that made her wish even more to stay exactly where they were. Then he pressed one more pleasantly firm kiss on the side of her neck before rolling off of her and exiting the bed. Molly groaned in protest and slowly sat up while pouting a little.

"It so happens that we are going to one of my favorite places in London," he announced happily, as he pulled on some trousers. "But I believe that you will also enjoy it. I think it holds an appeal for us both. We both, in different ways, find fascination in a rather unusual topic."

"Well, you've got me interested I suppose." She dragged her own body up and began to rummage for clothes.

While Molly was busy getting herself ready in the bathroom, Sherlock took the time to fill a backpack with some fruit and other snacks he knew Molly liked, and a couple bottles of water. He didn't plan to come back to Baker street until much later. And where they were going, there wouldn't exactly be a menu.

About half past nine they climbed into the cab Sherlock had flagged down and he gave Molly a half smile.

"I suppose I can't completely surprise you. Have to actually tell the driver where we're going don't I?... Highgate cemetery please."

"Oh!" Molly's eyes lit up. "I've been there too. Lovely place!"

He smiled, pleased that he'd been right. Though he already knew he would be. "I knew you'd like it."

"What's in the bag?" Molly motioned to the backpack at Sherlock's feet.

"Some refreshments. We will be needing them."

"Why? Are we camping in the cemetery?" she laughed.

"Ah, if only we could Molly, but I'll already be taking liberties today which aren't allowed to the general public. You'll see... But anyway, I'm sure you'll be hungry while we're still there, so I brought provisions."

"Taking liberties eh? What did you do? Get the groundskeeper off on a murder charge?"

Sherlock gave her a devious look. "Perhaps I helped him bury the body."

Molly smiled at him sweetly causing her nose scrunch to up, and he laughed inwardly that there weren't many women that would find such joking endearing.

They arrived at the entrance of the cemetery within twenty minutes and made their way to the entrance.

"Are we taking a tour?" Molly asked.

"We are not. We don't need to take a tour to explore Highgate East," he said as he went about paying for their entrance.

"Oh, well I do know that. I've been to the East cemetery before actually. But I know that you can't get into the West cemetery without a tour."

Sherlock peered over at her with a half smile as they entered the grounds. "That's not exactly going to be the case today."

"Ah! I see what you mean now about taking liberties! Figures that you'd have your run of the cemetery. You seem to manage to have your run of any place that houses corpses! Is there a silly woman who works here somewhere that falls all over herself every time you visit?" She hooked her arm into his.

"You've found me out Molly." He smiled down at her.

They spent almost two hours wandering around the East cemetery. It was rather crowded, although it was certainly beautiful and enjoyable to walk around. Molly enjoyed simply reading the sections of grave stones that belonged to particular families. It was like a little family album to read who was related to who and who died when. Sherlock enjoyed making deductions based on what they could read as well.

"He loved her most of all," Sherlock stated in a more solemn tone than was typical for him. He gestured to the headstone of a woman who died at the age of twenty two and was buried with her baby. They had both died the same day.

"You notice that this man didn't have any other children with this woman. They were clearly married for a short time. She died in childbirth, leaving him with no other children. He would have been only twenty five at the time. And yet according to the ages of his subsequent children with his second wife, he didn't marry again till he was in his early thirties. This second wife dies some years later as well. He clearly didn't hold as much deep affection for her seeing as he married and fathered two more children with wife number three beginning in the very next year. The third wife outlived him, but was married to him by far the longest. And yet, look," Sherlock gestured to the placement of the headstones.

Molly felt a lump in her throat as she saw what Sherlock meant. "He was buried next to his first wife," she said quietly.

"Defying logic and the connection of living children, this man who died at the age of seventy chose to be buried beside the woman he spend likely only a couple short years with. And it was a whole forty five years before his death. The inscription under her name reads... Gone but never forgotten."

"My God, how beautiful," Molly murmured and grasped Sherlock's hand. She reached up and wiped a tear that had managed to work it's way down her cheek.

"Forgive me, Molly... Is this perhaps the wrong atmosphere for a good date?" He looked concerned as he noticed her emotion.

"No! Sherlock, this is perfect. It's lovely. Just because it's emotional doesn't mean I'm not enjoying it. I love all this stuff, you know that."

"Oh good. I can just imagine Mary practically strangling me if she knew I took you to a cemetery for a date and made you cry. Probably not exactly what she had in mind."

"Oh who cares what Mary thinks! This is what you wanted to do with me, and that's what matters. And as I said, I do love it." Molly gave his hand a squeeze as they continued to move along.

Soon they came to the gravesite of an Austrian sculptor named Anna Mahler. Molly stopped short as she looked at the simply designed slim statue of a woman that adorned the grave stone. The figure held her stone hands perfectly over her face.

Molly gasped and grabbed Sherlock's arm.

"What? What is it Molly?"

"Sherlock!" she whispered. "Don't blink!"

Sherlock gave her a confused sideways glance and looked back and forth between the statue and his girlfriend who was staring at it. "Sorry, what? Why exactly wouldn't I blink?"

Molly frowned at Sherlock, then her eyes widened in shock. "Oh, Sherlock, don't tell me you haven't seen- Well, actually that's no surprise at all is it? That does it, I know what we're watching tonight whether you like it or not."

Sherlock shrugged as they continued on. "Whatever you say, Molly. I suppose it's only fair you get to pick an activity today as well."

They had explored most of the East section of Highgate, and then made their way to the entrance of the West which was next to the chapels. There was a guard standing there who looked rather stern.

"It's mid week," he said as Sherlock and Molly approached. "You have to schedule a tour in advance. And there's no tours on schedule for today."

"Actually, we won't be requiring a tour." Sherlock produced a note that the man read. And he also shoved his identification at him.

"Ah, I see... Well then, I suppose you're taken care of. Enjoy the sights Mr. Holmes." The guard unlocked the entrance and let them by.

They went in and the gate was locked behind them. Molly picked up the pace and caught up to Sherlock who was quick to get beyond the entrance. She dropped her voice as she spoke to him.

"Well that was impressive! What in the world did you do to get such unlimited access to the most exclusive area of the cemetery?"

"Some years back I actually solved a case for the Friends of Highgate Cemetery. They are the group responsible now for the upkeep and funding to keep this place alive... pardon the humor everyone." Sherlock glanced around him. "They were dealing with a rather difficult bunch of grave robbers. They had a number of instances where damage was done and even a couple people's remains were stolen. It was clear that those who were involved were professionals. So they were extremely difficult to catch. I caught them of course," he grinned.

"Lovely! And so now you practically own the place. It's good for you they don't know how much you enjoy taking body parts for your own experimental use. If so, they may be more worried about your access to the place rather than any random grave robbers!"

"You certainly may be right. But yes, thankfully they feel nothing but a deep gratitude to me for my help. I saved them a considerable amount of money by preventing future damage. It's expensive enough to deal with the regular upkeep of the place."

They had passed under the colonnade and continued on the White Eagle path to the left. The winding wooded paths that housed the largely ivy covered older graves on either side of them was partially sunlit through the trees, and it was to Molly, one of the most beautiful and serene places she'd ever had the pleasure of visiting. Eventually they made their way to Egypt avenue with it's impressive gate and stonework which echoed the fascination with Egyptian culture and architecture at the time of it's building.

Molly's breath caught when they came upon the impressive Circle of Lebanon. The below ground circle of tombs created a base for the massive and beautiful cedar tree above. They descended the stairs that led down and took their time examining the tombs. There were tomb doors on either side of them as they walked around the circle, and it almost felt to Molly as though they were in the hallway of a hotel rather than a cemetery. Though she realized that this was one hotel you don't get to check out of.

When they'd seen enough they came back up the stairs and found a bench not far away. They could still enjoy the sight of the majestic cedar from where they sat. Molly then broke into the backpack Sherlock had been carrying and was grateful he'd brought some snacks and water. She had an apple and some nuts and felt refreshed. Sherlock had a bit as well, and then they sat in contented silence as they enjoyed the breeze that blew through the trees.

"This has been lots of fun, Sherlock. This is even better than the fake dating," she said leaning her head on his shoulder.

"I hope that most anything I chose would have been a bit above my only pretending to have feelings for you."

"Yes of course," she laughed. "But I appreciate that you really put some thought into this. You could have just taken me to dinner at Angelo's or something. That's about all I was expecting when Mary told me she was going to talk to you."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he looked a little unsure for a moment. "So then... are you saying that dinner at Angelo's would be...unappealing?"

Molly giggled then. "Oh! Was that going to be our next stop?"

Sherlock smirked a little.

"Oh no! Sorry! I didn't mean I wouldn't like it. You know I'd be happy to eat there... I just didn't think you'd do anything unusual, that's all. I couldn't imagine you taking me on some sort of sight seeing like this or dancing or anything like that."

He tipped his head, peering at her. "Why do you think I wouldn't dance with you?"

"Well, I don't think you _wouldn't_ exactly. It's just that... I don't know. We've never done that, so I guess it just seemed unlikely."

"You saw me dance at John's wedding."

"Well yes, and you were good too. But I saw you do a lot of things at John's wedding that could all easily have been because he's your best friend and you wanted to do everything you could to be a proper best man."

"I suppose we're still learning about each other... It so happens, Molly, that I enjoy dancing," he smiled at her.

"Do you now?" she said in a surprised tone as her own smile spread.

Suddenly he got up from where he sat and began working quickly on his phone. A moment later, Molly heard a simple tune coming from the device and Sherlock increased the volume, making it a bit louder. He sat it on the bench where he had been. Then he removed his coat and scarf, laying it down as well, and extended his hand to Molly.

"Come on, we can dance right here."

Molly laughed a little. "What? Right here? In the cemetery?"

"Sure, why not? If I giggle at crime scenes, I may as well dance in a cemetery as well. Besides, I'm sure these folks haven't had much in the way of entertainment lately."

Molly glanced around, as if she should check to make sure nobody was watching. Then she slowly got up and removed her own coat before walking closer to move into the arms Sherlock held out. He positioned them very properly with his hand around her back and hers anchored on his shoulder.

"Do you _know_ how to waltz Molly?" he questioned as they began to move, but she kept tripping over her own feet.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, _detective_ , I know how. But it has been a while. It's not exactly something I do every day. And even when I dance at parties it usually ends up being fast dancing or perhaps some of the more modern style of slow dancing that involves little or no skill."

"We'll have to make you practice more often then, wont we?" he grinned smugly. Molly gave him a little whack on the shoulder.

They did fall into a better rhythm though. As they kept moving and Molly felt more comfortable being led by Sherlock, she didn't stumble so much. And there was something that felt especially meaningful about dancing with him here, where it was beautiful and peaceful. It was also a place full of tragedy. Every single spot that held someone's body many feet below had also been a place of tears and pain and loss. People still living had stood in those very places and wished to be anywhere but there. Wished for their loved one to be anywhere but below them. So somehow it was hauntingly beautiful to dance here, and feel so happy here. It felt good to put a little happiness back into a place that housed so many tears from years past. And she felt like it was appropriate that it should be them, together, waltzing here. Because death was such an important part of life for the two of them. And they felt a deep respect for each and every person who was laid to rest beneath their feet...

"I wonder how many people here were _murdered_?" Sherlock asked himself aloud with a little excited gleam in his eyes.

_Well_ , Molly thought with an inward laugh, _at least she felt a deep respect._

They only danced for as long as the one song was that Sherlock played on his phone. It was getting to be later afternoon by then and they still needed to make their way back through the cemetery. They looped around passing through the terrace catacombs and then coming back through Highgate West on the path they hadn't taken on the way in.

The guard that had let them in earlier was still there and opened the gate for them to return to the East area of the cemetery. They made their way back through that section as well till they were back at the main entrance.

"So you enjoyed it?" he asked as they stopped by the road to wait for a cab.

"Very much. It's beautiful. And I'd always wanted to take a tour of the West cemetery, but had never got the chance. I suppose I'm glad I didn't though. It was so much better to experience it like this."

"I'm glad... And perhaps this will keep Mary off my back for a little while."

Molly then clapped her hands together happily as a cab stopped by the curb. "Oh that's right! Now we can watch Lizzie while Mary and John have a night out! I can't wait!"

"Should it trouble me that you are this excited at the prospect of watching a small person who drools, cries, and doesn't use a toilet."

"I'm a woman. It's pretty much how we're made. It's a lovely prospect to most of us. So no, it shouldn't worry you. Besides, you love her just as much as I do, don't try to deny it!"

"I would never deny my love for the child... My desire to clean up after her various bodily functions on the other hand, mmm not so much."

As the cab began to drive after Sherlock had given the address of Angelo's, Molly began texting Mary.

GUESS WHO TOOK ME ON A DATE TODAY? -MH

I CERTAINLY HOPE THE ANSWER IS SHERLOCK... -MW

IT WAS LOVELY. HE WAS VERY SWEET. WE WENT TO HIGHGATE CEMETERY. :) -MH

... OK -MW

I WAS SO GLAD, BECAUSE I LOVE CEMETERIES! SO BEAUTIFUL, AND PEACEFUL, AND EMOTIONAL. IT WAS THE PERFECT DAY! -MH

WELL JOHN IS RIGHT, YOU TWO REALLY ARE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER! -MW

NOW WE'RE ON OUR WAY TO ANGELO'S. -MH

AH... GETTING BETTER ;) -MW

SO YOU'D BETTER GET PLANNING A DATE MRS. WATSON! BECAUSE WE ARE OFFICIALLY OPEN FOR BABYSITTING BUSINESS! :) -MH

PLEASE! I'VE BEEN PLANNING FOR THE PAST WEEK! I'LL BE IN TOUCH SOON AND WE'LL PICK A DAY... GLAD SHERLOCK MADE AN EFFORT. ENJOY THE REST OF YOUR EVENING, AND TELL HIM I SUPPOSE HE'S SAFE FOR NOW. -MW

Molly showed Sherlock the text feed and he sighed heavily. "Well, it seems I've dodged a bullet this time... perhaps literally."

"Yes, perhaps!... Now, let's go have a nice quiet dinner. Then, as I promised, we're going back to Baker Street to watch the best episode of Dr. Who ever!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes a bit. "Oh fine. If you insist... I confess I am a bit intrigued based on what I've heard of the show's writer. Strikes me as the type that has repressed psychopathic tendencies. Perhaps he creates emotionally troubling and addictive programs that are designed to ensnare people's minds, in an effort to keep himself on the straight and narrow. He could probably be a dangerous criminal if he doesn't keep himself properly occupied!"

Molly giggled at the deduction.

"It's a valid theory..." he stated simply while staring out the window of the cab. "Perhaps Moriarty should have tried writing for television."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie guys, I'm proud of my reference right there hehehe!... Are you listening Moffat? Huh huh?! That's right! You're one step away from a criminal mastermind based on the way you toy with people's FEELS lol!
> 
> Also... I wanted to make one more mention. So, my lovely reader Sherlockedinseattle has now also turned WRITER! She's begun a story called I Need A Favor. (On fanfiction.net) It's a Mycroft and Anthea pairing that stemmed from her wonderful ideas after my meet the Holmes parents chapter. It's set in the Winds of Change and Window into Change ficverse and I couldn't be more pleased that she's doing it! If you haven't checked it out yet, please go do so now! It's so good! ;D


	8. Fulfilling a Vow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, true to reality, babies take up massive amounts of time! I started out this chapter thinking it would be a shorter one, and I should've known better haha! I enjoyed writing this one though. Been thinking of writing a Lizzie Watson babysitting chapter since early on in Winds of Change! But this prompt has come from Sherlockedinseattle. Hope you, and all the other readers enjoy this one. I must say, if there's anything that can rival the hotness of the everyday Sherlock, it would be the image of him lovingly caring for a baby! I mean... for real... drool! ;P

"Sherlock, don't take a case right now! John and Mary will be here to drop off Lizzie in only a couple hours."

Sherlock kept scanning the screen of his laptop almost obsessively.

"My inbox is full Molly, I can't just stop working because there will be a baby here for a few hours!"

Molly set down the tray of beakers that she was about to put away and came over to take a seat on Sherlock's lap, thereby obstructing his line of view. Sherlock huffed and leaned back in his seat, looking at her in frustration.

"Your inbox is _always_ full Sherlock," she said firmly. "That's nothing new, and it's not a matter of national security. You're just trying to find a reason to avoid the whole babysitting situation... admit it."

Sherlock sighed slowly as he averted his eyes from Molly, then looked back at her a moment later. He thought about trying to deny it, but it was probably pointless. She'd end up knowing he was lying anyway.

He wasn't a father. He was barely even an uncle. This wasn't his area. He was good at holding Lizzie for fifteen minutes, or giving her a kiss hello or goodbye, and he could easily make her face blossom in a wide grin now. But to take care of her? He doubted he'd be any good at it, and frankly he didn't know that he wanted to be. Molly was so strangely excited to take care of Lizzie, that is seemed to make sense to just let her enjoy it. And if he had to take a case, he'd end up being gone for a bit of the day.

"I don't think you'll miss me Molly. You'll be perfectly busy and content with the baby."

"But I want you to be here! You'll enjoy it too, I know it. Besides, I think John and Mary wouldn't appreciate the fact that you're trying to skip out on watching their child. Doesn't sound much like the man who made a vow to be there for a certain family of three!" She raised an accusing eyebrow.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I'm not leaving you to take care of her in a burning building for God's sake!... Alright, alright, I suppose I'll stay the whole time."

Molly smiled and held his face as she pressed a kiss on his lips. Then she jumped up and kept straightening up around the flat.

Toby then proceeded to jump up on the desk and trot happily across Sherlock's keyboard, purring the whole time.

"Oh fine!" Sherlock exclaimed as he ushered Toby out of the way and closed the laptop. "Apparently nobody wants me to do any work!"

* * *

Around noon, John and Mary arrived at the flat. They had planned a leisurely afternoon walking in the park, and then dinner at a nice restaurant and a film. Sherlock had tried to convince John to take Mary to Highgate cemetery, but he'd gotten a rather flat reaction.

_"Yeah... I think I'll pass Sherlock. I'd like to take Mary on a nice date. She hasn't been out for any fun in months."_

_"Oh don't look at me like that John, acting so superior! Don't try to act like you're somehow a more 'normal' couple than Molly and I. Your wife is a deadly ex assassin, and you were the one who fell in love with her. And let's not even mention the fact that I'm your best friend! So forgive me for assuming you may be interested in something beyond the typical dinner and a film!"_

_John had chuckled. "Ok Sherlock. Next time you'll plan our date and it can involve violence and death. How's that?"_

_"No need to mock me John."_

Mary came in with more gear than Sherlock had ever seen one person carry. She had a baby bag on her shoulder, the folded travel crib, some sort of a play mat, and then a small cooler. She set all the things down and then went over to the kitchen with the cooler, giving Molly a kiss on the cheek as she went.

"Ok, now where is the furthest that I can put this from any body parts?" she asked as she was poised to open the fridge.

"Don't worry Mary, no body parts right now. I cleaned!" Molly assured her as she took the rest of the baby's items to set aside.

"Why? What's in there?" Sherlock asked as he followed where Mary had gone in the kitchen.

"It's for Lizzie, Sherlock. It's my breast milk."

Sherlock's eyes widened suddenly. "Oh, _fascinating_... Mary, perhaps we could test a bit, and I could record the findings, and-"

Mary whirled around as she shut the fridge door. "Sherlock Holmes, if you use even one drop of my breast milk for anything other than feeding my child, I swear to God I will finish what I started last year!"

"Oh no! He wouldn't!" Molly said with a little nervous laugh as she ran over to put a comforting arm around Mary. "Don't worry Mary, I'd never let him do anything like that."

"Fine, I won't." Sherlock said with a huff. That was disappointing. He'd never been able to study human milk before.

Mary took a deep cleansing breath as she left the kitchen with Molly still rubbing her shoulder gently.

"Sorry! It's just, you tell me how you would feel Sherlock, if you had to spend days expressing and saving up milk from your own body all so you could enjoy an afternoon and evening of peace, quiet, and time with only adults! You can skip out and take a case any time you feel like it!" Mary said, gesturing toward Sherlock and John.

"Don't worry Mary, you'll feel so much better after you have a nice evening to yourselves." Molly reached to take Lizzie from John. "And we'll have such a fun time here, you have nothing to worry about."

Mary's expression changed suddenly though, as she looked at her baby and thought about leaving her behind for hours on end. She gazed at the little face that looked back at her and her brow furrowed in concern.

"Are you sure? You're sure it's fine? Is there anything I didn't tell you yet?" she asked Molly.

"Mary, it's fine," John said, gently taking Mary's hand. "Lizzie will be just fine, and they can always call us if there's a problem- which there won't be!"

"I'll text you Mary. I'll text you lots and send you pictures too, if that makes you feel better," Molly offered.

"Ok, I suppose... God, why is this so hard? I wanted to go out so badly!"

"John, take your wife on this date or she'll never leave!" Sherlock interjected. "You'll be back in a matter of hours, and then you'll be sorry if you wasted any time!"

Finally John and Mary gave kisses and hugs to their little daughter and left the flat. When the door shut, Molly walked over to the window and waved to them as they got into their cab. She picked up Lizzie's little chubby hand as well and gave it a wave.

"Ok, now what?" Sherlock asked expectantly.

"Well, nothing in particular. She's freshly changed, and Mary fed her before they came over. So there's not much to do right now. We can just relax... Yes we can! Want to sit here Lizzie? Look at this, what have we go here?" Molly pulled out a colorful ring from the baby bag and offered it. Lizzie then did her best to maintain a hold on the teething ring and began gumming it happily while making some muffled gurgling noises.

"Is she teething?" Sherlock asked as he sat down next to Molly on the couch.

"Mary said she seems to be. Drools quite a bit, and she's been chewing on everything. And she's already got one bottom tooth. So the other one probably isn't far behind. She's about five months, so it's to be expected around now."

The little face peered over at Sherlock with wide eyes as she chewed on the bumpy ring.

"Want to go to uncle Sherlock? Hmm?" Molly inquired softly, as she saw the way Lizzie's gaze was riveted to Sherlock's face.

Sherlock jumped up though and went to the kitchen. "I'll just go wash my hands. Can't remember what I was last experimenting with earlier today."

Molly laughed and bounced Lizzie as she smiled down at her.

He came back over and Lizzie seemed to look up expectantly at him even before he sat and reached out for her. Sherlock took hold of her and lifted her from Molly's lap and onto his own. He sat her down so that she was facing him and her mouth almost immediately started spreading in a smile. Molly also smiled at the sight. It was amusing that this little baby was so enthralled with Sherlock. He didn't fawn over her the way most adults did. He gave her the brief smiles he gave to everyone else, and perhaps an occasional kiss. And he spoke to her in much the same way he did with everyone else. But when he was around, Lizzie's attention was captivated.

Molly began getting the fold out crib set up in their bedroom since she knew Lizzie could be getting tired in the next hour or so. Sherlock picked up a case file he'd gotten from Lestrade the day before and set it on the couch beside him so he could look it over a bit.

"Why would someone decapitate this man and dump him in the woods, Lizzie?" he queried softly as he looked from the file to the sweet little face staring back at him. "Who do you think would do such a thing, hmm?"

Lizzie let out a little coo and then waved the teething toy around a bit.

Sherlock instinctively bounced his knee a bit as he continued perusing the current evidence contained in the folder. He finally turned his attention back to Lizzie completely and stood her up on his legs, but continued to bounce her little body a bit.

"Molly!" he called down the hall. "I'm not sure what else to do with Lizzie now. She's probably going to get bored soon!"

"She probably doesn't get bored as easily as you Sherlock!" she called back.

He looked back at Lizzie who's big blue eyes were wide and staring into his piercing multicolored ones. She was moving her arms excitedly and smiling every few seconds. Sherlock smiled at her experimentally and she ginned even wider. He found that interesting. She reacted so quickly to whatever she saw in his face. She reached her rounded little arms forward and began clumsily touching his face with her soft hands. Well, soft only until she decided to firmly grip his nose.

"Ow." he muttered as he pried the tiny vice like fingers off his face. But she was still enthralled by the face before her and reached out to hold onto his invitingly soft hair. She leaned forward pressing what was a very sloppy and open mouthed form of a baby kiss onto his face.

"Lizzie, do try to control yourself." he said, but couldn't help laughing a bit as he wiped his face with his sleeve. She only responded with a high pitched happy squeal.

Molly emerged then and found the scene of this sweet little baby bouncing her legs happily up and down on Sherlock's lap, and grasping his face and hair like it was the most exciting toy in the world.

"Well of course John and Mary Watson's baby would be absolutely mad for you!" she said with a laugh as she sat back down."How could you even think about going out while she was here?"

"Well I've never spent extended time alone with her. I didn't think she'd care so- Ow!" Lizzie smacked him almost right on the eye.

"Oh! She's got a good arm! Almost as good as me." Molly kissed Sherlock's cheek. "Ew, your cheek's wet," she grimaced.

"Yes, you're not the only girl who's kissing me now. Apparently you're sharing me today." He pulled Lizzie closer against his chest while smiling at Molly.

"I couldn't bear to share you with anyone else!" Molly planted a kiss on Lizzie's chubby cheek. "Play with her a bit longer and soon I'll warm up one of her bottles. Mary said she should eat a bit before she takes an afternoon nap."

Sure enough, about twenty minutes later, Lizzie became more difficult to please. She became less easily entertained simply by sitting with Sherlock, and he had to get up and begin walking around the flat with her. Sherlock thought to himself that it was quite fascinating the way the human body automatically responded to the job of caring for a child. Did he ever walk around his flat with an ever so slight bounce in his step? And yet the moment he walked around while holding Lizzie, that's how he took to moving. He was bouncing just a bit and also patting her back rhythmically. But still, she was clearly turning some sort of corner. Lizzie began rubbing her face on the shoulder of Sherlock's shirt and making slight fussing noises.

"Molly? I believe she's becoming dissatisfied."

"Yes, I know, I'm getting the bottle now. I hope she takes it ok. She's still getting used to it." Molly swirled the milk around gently in the bottle, making sure it would all be the same temperature, then squeezed a drop from the nipple onto her arm. Feeling it was almost undetectable on her skin, she confirmed that it was about body temperature.

"Ok, here we go love," she said softly as she came over to the two of them still moving gently around the room.

Molly sat down in Sherlock's chair and he handed Lizzie to her. Molly settles her back, slightly reclined against the crook of her arm and offered the bottle. Lizzie played with the bottle for a minute, making some noises of frustration. Finally she got a taste of what was coming out and agreed to latch on and actually start drinking.

"I know I'm not mummy, but at least it's the same milk right?" Molly said gently as she looked down at the big eyes that started to droop a bit as she kept drinking.

Lizzie very sadly protested ten minutes later when they made her take a break halfway through the bottle to burp her. Then she sighed appreciatively when given the bottle back and began drinking the rest. When the bottle was almost empty, Lizzie was close to being asleep as well. Her eyes kept fluttering closed and her sucking became very shallow.

Molly removed the bottle from her mouth finally and the little pink lips pouted out for a moment, making Molly smile and have to stifle a laugh. She set the bottle down and carefully lifted Lizzie up onto her shoulder. She got up and walked around for a minute or two. Then she motioned to Sherlock who sat at his desk.

"She's asleep right?" she whispered.

Sherlock peered over Molly's shoulder and he nodded in confirmation. Molly then gently swayed her way down the hall, into their bedroom and very carefully deposited Lizzie into the crib she'd set up already. She startled a bit when laid down, but then she sighed softly and her limbs rested again.

She quickly took her mobile out of her pocket and took a picture, sending it to Mary with the words "feeding and nap time... check! :)" Molly turned on a baby monitor Mary had packed, crept out of the room, and shut the door.

"Wow, I feel like I just accomplished something amazing! I've never fed and gotten a baby to sleep like that before!" Molly said excitedly to Sherlock, as she switched on the other half of the monitor that was now in the sitting room.

"You seemed like you'd done it before."

"Instinct, I suppose," she said with a shrug. Then she picked up the almost empty bottle. "I'll just get this washed up."

* * *

Lizzie Watson ended up taking an almost two hour nap, thankfully. It was long enough to make her wake happy and rested. They were only alerted to waking because of some pleasant cooing noises over the monitor. Molly and Sherlock smiled at each other as they heard the sound.

"Want to go get her?" Molly questioned.

"Alright." Sherlock headed down the hallway.

He peered over the edge of the crib and smiled down at the happy face that looked back up at him. Lizzie kicked her feet a bit in excitement as he reached down to lift her into his arms.

"Hello, are you feeling rested? You look awfully rested to me, and I'm very observant."

"There you are Lizzie! You feel better?" Molly came over to plant kisses on her cheek as Sherlock entered the room holding her.

"I believe she may need to be changed now. I detect a slightly different odor than she had before she went to sleep."

Molly dipped her head a bit to check for herself. "Oh, yes I'd say you're right. Ok, this is a two man job Sherlock. I'll be requiring your help."

He frowned slightly. "What happened to instinct?"

Molly stuck her tongue out at him and went to grab the baby bag with all Lizzie's needed supplies. They went back into the bedroom and Molly laid a little changing mat on top of their bed.

"Ok, here we go!" she announced as she began unsnapping the one piece footy suit Lizzie was wearing. She pulled the garment off and then opened the nappie.

"I can clearly see that I was right," Sherlock said with a frown.

"Mm, you certainly were. This is rather messy... Hand me those wipes. And grab that plastic bag to put everything in."

Sherlock dutifully stood by and handed the needed items to Molly, and also held the bag out for her to deposit the offending items into.

"At least it doesn't smell so bad." Molly said as she was almost finished getting Lizzie completely cleaned.

"That would be due to the natural composition of breast milk and the way it's specially made to work with an infant's gut... I could give you more detail, but I'm not allowed to study it further," he said with slight bitterness.

"Oh you poor thing!... So abused, isn't he, Lizzie? What mum doesn't want to give her husband's best friend free access to her breast milk so that he can study it and record the findings? I mean, the nerve!" she exclaimed sarcastically, and smiled widely down at Lizzie, making her grin in return.

"Ok here, Sherlock," she said handing him the clean nappie. "You put it on."

"You want me to do it?" he frowned.

"Sure, why not? I just did the hard part! This isn't even unpleasant!"

"Ok, fine." He grabbed the nappie. He hesitated a bit before lifting Lizzie's legs to slide the nappie underneath her bum.

"Further up, Sherlock. Nappies aren't meant to be low rise," she said with a giggle.

"You wanted me to do this!" he complained. "It's not my area!"

"Famous last words Sherlock. So were girlfriends!" She laughed even more.

"Oh yes, it's hilarious!... Why are you laughing Lizzie? Is this funny to you?" His voice softened considerably.

He managed to pull the front of the nappie up and in the correct position and then gave it a bit more consideration, discovering the fastenings on the side panels. He pulled them up and over the front and fastened one side, then the other. Then he lifted the little girl up and turned her around back and forth in the air, inspecting the finished product.

"There. A clean and changed baby." He smiled proudly as he gathered the baby against his chest, facing her outward.

Molly took out her phone immediately and took a picture of Sherlock holding a very happy looking, and clean, Lizzie. She sent it off to Mary with the caption, "A study in nappies... Case solved! :)"

The next few hours went by rather peacefully. They fed her again not long after her changing, then had some quiet time on the floor with Lizzie laying happily on her play mat. She enjoyed sitting up for a while, though she still needed a bit of assistance at times to prevent her toppling over. Not long later she needed another changing, and then there was more playing time.

Molly ordered some take away for herself and Sherlock. And they managed to eat it while taking turns holding and playing with Lizzie. By the time that was done Lizzie needed to be fed again too. Sherlock did the honors that time, at Molly's urging. He was a bit uncomfortable at first, but settled in nicely after a few minutes as Lizzie stared up at him, with what could only be described as devotion. Molly watched in awe as Sherlock even started whispering softly in that lovely baritone to the baby girl as she ate.

"You're lovely aren't you? Yes... you look just like your mum and dad. Did you know I made a vow to you before you were even born? I did... I'll always be there for you. For you and your mum and dad. What do you think of that? You like that, don't you?"

Molly caught her breath a little as she watched this scene in the chair across from her and the setting sun came through the window, illuminated Sherlock's outline as he looked down at Lizzie. It was so different, and so beautiful. And she realized in that moment that she didn't only love Sherlock for what he was, and what he wasn't... She also loved him for the things that he _could_ be... For the possibilities.

He looked up then and his eyes met hers, as if he'd just read her thoughts. He smiled a little before looking back down at Lizzie. "By the way... I may have been wrong that day, Molly... It is possible that there could be more vows in my future." He raised his eyes to her again.

Molly's smile spread and held his gaze. "That's... good to know," she said softly. They looked steadily at each other for another moment before Molly took a deep breath and brought herself back to reality.

"Better take a break and burp her, Sherlock."

In another hour or so Lizzie was becoming fussy again. It was about eight in the evening, and that was usually her bedtime. Sherlock sat at his desk for a while then and checked emails as Molly began pacing more and more with Lizzie. Every time Molly sat down, Lizzie became irritated. She didn't want to lay down in Molly's arms, she didn't want to sit on her lap, or be on her shoulder. The only thing that seemed to keep her sane was walking around. And Molly's arm were becoming like jelly.

"God, I never imagined that something so small could feel so heavy after a while! She's tired, she just needs to go to sleep. Mary texted and said they should be here in about an hour, but she can't last that long," she sighed.

Sherlock got up from his desk then and set his mobile on the dock of the small stereo. "I have an idea. Here, give her to me." Before Molly handed Lizzie over, he pressed a button on the phone.

Music began to play and Sherlock started moving slowly around the room with Lizzie and patting her back. The constant mild fussing noises that had been coming from her little mouth dissolved very quickly and at first her eyes widened considerably as she started paying attention to the music that filled her tiny ears.

"Sherlock, isn't that?-"

"It's what I wrote for the Watson's wedding, yes."

Molly stood back and and covertly took out her mobile again in order to take a short video. She couldn't stand the level of adorableness that was happening before her eyes, and she knew that John and Mary would not want to miss this!

Not surprisingly, Lizzie's chubby cheek began to press comfortable against Sherlock's chest. Her eyes began to droop as Sherlock swayed around the room and continued patting her back. His own cheek was lightly rested on top of her soft little head. The song played on a loop as Sherlock had set it to do so, and he continued with this pattern for another ten minutes. Soon Molly came over and looked closer at Lizzie and smiled at Sherlock.

"She's out," Molly whispered. "I hate to put her down now. That crib needs to be put away for them to take back home."

"That's fine. You work on getting things packed up, I'm fine here." Sherlock then went over to the couch and slowly took a seat. He swung his legs up across the length of the couch and then cautiously lowered his upper body backwards. He rested his head against the arm, and then continued a slight patting on Lizzie's back.

Molly smiled. "Ok, I'll be back in a bit."

She did get all the baby items packed up nicely and had them all ready for when John and Mary arrived. When she came back, Sherlock was looking a bit bleary eyed as well. He had stopped patting Lizzie's back since she was far gone now in deep sleep. But he continued cradling her little body carefully against his chest. Molly lifted Sherlock's feet and sat down at the other end of the couch then laying his feet back down over her lap. The three of them sat there peacefully for the next twenty minutes or so, till they heard a knock at the door.

Molly jumped up and opened the door with an immediate sign putting her finger to her lips and pointing to the couch. John and Mary walked in quietly and both of their jaws dropped a little at the sight before them. John shook his head a bit in amused disbelief.

Sherlock looked up at the two of them and mouthed "What?!" as if this shouldn't be a shocking and amazing scene to behold.

Mary and John gave big hugs of appreciation to Molly, and Sherlock began carefully sitting up on the couch. John put the car seat on the couch next to Sherlock and watch in more amazement as he very skillfully leaned forward while cradling Lizzie's head, until he had lowered her into the seat. Lizzie began to move a bit, but John quickly fastened her in and then began gently swinging the seat till she settled back into comfortable sleep.

They all uttered hushed goodbyes and Mary gathered up the rest of Lizzie's things. It was only after the Watson family had left and the door had shut, that Molly felt the wave of tiredness wash over her. She felt like she could collapse!

"Wow. How do they do that? Every day, all the time! I give parents a lot of credit," she said with a loud exhale as she ran her hands through her hair.

"Mm, I suppose so... I'm glad I stayed, as it turns out. It was a rather interesting and enjoyable way to spend the day." He leaned down to press a quick kiss on Molly's cheek before returning to his seat in front of his laptop. He looked back up at Molly cheerfully and said, "We should do that again some time, don't you think?"

Molly smiled and nodded before she turned to go get ready for bed, and she laughed inwardly... Leave it to Sherlock Holmes. One day of babysitting, and he's an expert.


	9. Going Back to the Start (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! It had to happen sooner or later. It's time to get back to Molly's mum and sister! This is one I've been looking forward to. And it'll be at least two parts. The prompt comes from Sherlockedinseattle and MegHolmes. Love that you guys wanted to see this play out, and hope you enjoy it! The title come from a song I love. The Scientist, by Coldplay. Any of you who have read my story Pleased to Meet You already know I love that song hehe! I couldn't help making use of it again! Hope you all enjoy this one. ;)

"John, it's an important case! I need you there!"

"Sherlock, it's days long! I can't just leave Mary and Lizzie for days on end. You have no idea when we'll come back. And you'll take your time since it'll be a visit to Molly's family as well. It's just not something I can do for now, especially this short notice. Don't tell me you can't manage on your own. You were on your own for two years and you dismantled Moriarty's entire network!"

Sherlock flopped into his chair by the fire and huffed in annoyance, "Yes, but I didn't _want_ to do it on my own! I much prefer to have an assistant. And I can't use Molly so freely in this instance. She can't work a case with me the whole time she's staying with her family."

"You'll figure it out Sherlock, don't worry about it... So how are you feeling about seeing her family again?"

Sherlock shot him a sideways glance. "I'm... fine. They are nice people."

"Yeah, but you did lie to them."

"Thank you for that reminder John," he said with an added eye roll.

"John, since you're not coming," Molly began as she came into the sitting room with one bag ready to go, "would you be able to stop by every couple days and put some food in Toby's dish?"

"Oh sure, he can feed the cat! But he can't come help me find a missing person!" Sherlock said throwing his hands up in the air.

John and Molly stared at him.

"Yeah Sherlock, that's right. I can feed the cat with just a bit less trouble to myself and my family than traveling two hours by train and taking days to help you find a missing person." John shook his head and started for the door. "Well, hope everything goes well for you both. Get the case solved quickly and then take some time to relax. You'll be in a nice area of Lincolnshire. Take advantage of it!"

"The case would be done more quickly if you were coming, John. But don't trouble yourself!" Sherlock said with a wave of his hand.

"Thanks John, for stopping by. And let me know if there's any trouble with Toby. But I'm sure he'll be fine. He'll be glad to have the run of the place I'm sure." Molly gave John a kiss on the cheek.

John left and Molly continued packing as quickly as she could. The case had come in earlier that day. There was a young wife who had gone missing only six months after she and her husband married. The husband was desperate for help. He begged Sherlock to come as soon as he could. He and Molly decided that it only made sense to let this be the case that would take them to Spalding, Lincolnshire for a visit to Molly's family. The case was only a town over from the house Molly grew up in. So Sherlock promised the man that he'd make it to the area by dinner that night.

She called her mother and told her that they could come for a visit. Mrs. Hooper was too excited about them coming to care that she only had hours to prepare for their arrival. Molly also phoned Becky and told her to take as much time off from work as she could manage for the next few days. Her sister didn't live far. She'd moved out and gotten her own place years ago, but it was an apartment in the same town. So she still spent a considerable amount of time at their family home. So it was certainly easy to visit both of them at one time.

"I've got a plan," Sherlock suddenly announced as he continued placing clothes into his suitcase.

"Have you?" Molly zipped up her last case.

"I've just texted Lestrade to inform him that I'll be unavailable for the next few days at least. And he has told me that he is in fact off for this next week." Sherlock smiled at Molly.

She stared back at him, eyes shifting. "Yes, and what's the plan?"

"Don't you see? Lestrade! Lestrade can be my assistant!" he said excitedly.

"Uh... I don't know Sherlock. He said he's got this week off. What makes you think he'd want to go work a case with you?"

"What else can he possibly have to do?" Sherlock said dismissively.

Molly shook her head and refrained from engaging in a perhaps pointless discussion. "Ok well, why don't you ask him then?"

"I plan to. I'll just let him know when he'll need to be there and-"

"Sherlock, I said _ask_ him. Don't _tell_ him, ok?" she said pointedly.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Fine."

By the time Sherlock and Molly boarded the train that afternoon, Greg Lestrade had been convinced to make an appearance in Spalding. He had been pulled in by the case itself and his desire to see this innocent woman returned to her family. And of course, despite his frequent irritation at Sherlock, he still had warm feelings for the infuriating man. Sherlock was his friend. And Greg felt Sherlock was well on his way to becoming a good man, as well as the great one he already was. Molly had also forced her way onto the phone and assured him that she would make sure he had some time for relaxation as well, seeing as he was willing to put up with being Sherlock's assistance.

* * *

It was around four in the afternoon when Sherlock and Molly rolled into the station. Molly had read and slept all the way since Sherlock had spent the whole time cataloging the case information he had thus far in his mind palace. He hadn't worked a missing person case in a while, and was hoping to sharpen his skills a bit.

Mrs. Hooper was right there waiting at the station grinning from ear to ear as Molly and Sherlock began to make their way over with their bags.

"Oh I've missed you!" she sighed as she embraced her daughter. "And you too, of course, Sherlock." She pulled him into a hug as well, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"I may be making myself scarce for a while Mrs. Hooper, I hope Molly made that clear when she told you of our visit," he warned.

"Of course! I completely understand. No problem at all. We'll keep Molly busy while you're working the case, and whenever you have time we'll be glad to see you."

Sherlock smiled gratefully and then got their bags into Laura Hooper's car.

"Mum, did you get my text about Greg Lestrade?"

"Yes, I did. So he can have yours or Becky's old room. You two can have the guest room since it has a queen size bed."

"Greg was reluctant to accept a room from you at first, but I wouldn't hear of him staying at a hotel when Sherlock had forced him to give up his time off all to help him with this case," Molly said as they all climbed in the vehicle and started on the road.

"I'm glad you made him come stay here as well. I'll be so glad to have guests in the house. It's been so long! I'll be happy to cook meals for someone again!" Mrs. Hooper said with an excited smile at Sherlock who sat in the passenger seat.

"Digestion slows me down on a case. Take no offense if I refuse food at any point in our stay." Sherlock flashed her a slightly apologetic smile.

Mrs. Hooper smiled back at him. "Don't worry about that! You just focus on the work, and don't worry about offending anyone."

"Oh Lord, mum, don't tell him that! He doesn't need permission to be offensive!" Molly said with a laugh.

"You're right, I don't. I do it anyway," he said with a smile into the backseat.

They got to Molly's old home in very little time. Molly hadn't visited in over a year and she couldn't avoid a swell of sadness as she got out of the car in the driveway, being reminded again of the fact that her father wasn't about to open the door. And she wouldn't get to hug him. Not this time, not this visit, not ever.

Sherlock enveloped her small hand with his large one and his voice warmed her out of the brief moment of grief.

"It may not be Baker Street, but I suppose it's... quite lovely," he smirked sweetly down at her.

"Come on," she said lifting his cool hand to meet her warm lips for a moment. "Let's get settled, and then you can get to work."

They made quick work of getting their few bags up to the guest room on the second floor. There was a small desk in the corner and Sherlock set up his laptop on it. The room wasn't large, but it was light and inviting. Molly laughed to herself though as she looked around. She vividly recalled this being the choice location for the bed forts that she and Becky would always try to make. And then their mother would become especially irritated that they'd broken into and disrupted the guest room. "Why can't you girls mess up your own rooms?!" she'd always say.

"Do you need to call the client?" Molly asked.

Sherlock pressed his hands together and rested the side of his fingers against the curve of his lips as he breathed in and looked at the screen of his laptop. "I will soon, yes... Just thinking."

"Ok. I'll see you in a bit." Molly quickly exited the room, heading downstairs to her mother.

She sat at a chair in front of the small island in the kitchen. Her mother was just taking the kettle off the stove for some tea. "Do you think Sherlock wants some?"

"Not right now. I think he needs to be alone to think for a while. Then he'll probably go see the clients this evening. Is Becky coming over soon?"

"She should be, in a bit. Had some appointments up till five, so she'll perhaps be here around six or six thirty. I just made some sandwiches for us, something simple since I wasn't even sure who would be here for dinner... Do you know how long you'll be here?"

"A few days at least. Even if Sherlock solves this thing in a day, I'll make sure we stay for a while. It would be a waste if we didn't stay at least a few days."

There was silence for a few minutes as Laura Hooper poured tea and got a few plates out to have ready for the sandwiched she'd prepared.

"So... how are things going with you two? Still going as strong as when we came to visit?"

Molly pressed her lips together and refrained from laughing before she replied. "Oh I'd say... they're going stronger now than back then."

"Really? Oh how nice... I have to be honest, I'm still so blown away by the whole thing, really. I hope you don't mind me saying so, darling."

"Oh no, not at all, mum. You have every right to be blown away... You have no idea," she added under her breath as her mother puttered around the kitchen.

Molly knew that this was the time. Not this moment exactly. But this visit was when the truth would have to come out about how she and Sherlock actually got their start. And the fact that they had both completely deceived her family during their visit to London some months ago. She honestly didn't know what to expect. They were already attached to the relationship she had with Sherlock, so that was good. But she had the small fear that this truth would pitch them back into distrusting him and believing him capable of cruelty which she could eventually suffer from.

She spent some time with her mother and in about an hour Sherlock came downstairs.

"I'll be going out now. Going to do some investigating around the town. And Lestrade texted me, he should be arriving at the station in another hour. I'll pick him up so we can meet with the clients and we'll come back here. There may not be much else we can do tonight, so I may see you before you go to sleep." and he kissed Molly's forehead after swinging his coat onto his shoulders.

"See you later then." She gave him a warm smile.

"Mrs. Hooper," he gave her a small kiss on the cheek before going to the door. Suddenly he stopped and frowned. "I've just realized something. At the risk of sounding fifteen years younger... may I borrow the car?"

Mrs. Hooper laughed as she dug in her bag and handed him the keys. "Yes I suppose there aren't exactly cabs driving by around here. Bring it back in one piece is all I ask."

"Thank you." He gave her a smile with a wink, and was out the door.

Mrs. Hooper sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry we gave you such a hard time before, darling. If I worked with that man day in and day out... I think I'd have dumped my fiancé too!"

* * *

"You didn't have to bring up the possibility of an affair so quickly! And in front of the husband!" Lestrade complained as they drove back to the Hooper home.

"They wanted me to find Lucy, and this is me finding Lucy. I'm exploring all possible reasons for her vanishing, and I'm logically going to start with the ones that are statistically more likely. Can you really argue that it's not most likely that she left her new husband for some former lover that she realized she couldn't move on from?"

Lestrade became silent in the passenger seat for a moment and looked out the window. Then he quietly gave a somber answer. "You know I can't."

Sherlock glanced over at him and rolled his eyes. This could be an irritating distraction to the progression of the case if Lestrade would insist on sulking every time he was reminded of his ex wife's betrayal. And then of course he felt a twinge of guilt as he heard Molly's chiding voice in his head, insisting that he be kinder.

Sherlock cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Lestrade... Is this er, difficult for you?"

He sighed. "Nah, it's fine. Don't worry about me. Not like I don't encounter this sort of thing all the time on the job. Nothing new... At least I've moved on now from her now. No more playing games. Wasn't worth it. I know I'm better off."

Sherlock wasn't quite sure what to say. He barely had begun feeling comfortable about discussing feelings with Molly. He certainly wasn't about to become family counselor to Lestrade. He was glad that they'd arrived back at Molly's mother's house by this time and were able to end the conversation.

"Ah, looks like Molly's sister is here now," Sherlock said as they got out of the car and he saw another vehicle in the driveway.

"Sister? I didn't realize her sister would be here too. Older or younger?" Greg took his luggage with him as they made their way to the door.

"Younger. Only by a couple years." Sherlock rang the bell so they'd be let in.

Molly opened the door and kissed Sherlock as they came in. She hugged Greg after he put his bag down. "Greg, you can have mine or my sister's old room. They both have a twin bed, and are about the same."

A laugh came from the couch as a figure arose and walked over. "Oh please, my room is definitely bigger! And you were always jealous!" Becky poked her sister as she came over to the entry way.

Greg Lestrade froze with his mouth ajar. Becky Hooper walked over casually with her lips in a warm smile. She walked lightly on her bare feet and was clearly still wearing her work clothes. She had on a pencil skirt and her camisole, but had left her jacket on the back of the couch. Her hair, long like Molly's, was a bit lighter and more wavy. It framed her face that held the same big brown eyes that Molly had, but she tended to accentuate them with a bit more makeup. He couldn't help but think that this woman was even more beautiful than her sister... She reached out to offer a handshake and it took a second for Greg to respond and take her small hand. Then he also finally lifted his jaw from the floor.

"Hi, I'm Becky," she said sweetly.

"This is Lestrade, he-" Sherlock began.

"Hi, I'm Greg. Nice to meet you."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the scene next to him, watching the two faces looking at each other and seeing the handshake continuing. He was about to open his mouth again when Molly grabbed his arm and gave him a piercing look. She'd seen it all too, and was immediately trying to make sure Sherlock kept his deductions to himself.

Lestrade was introduced to Mrs. Hooper and then they took him to put his things in Becky's old room. Molly grabbed Sherlock at that point and pulled him into their guest room, shutting the door. His back hit the wall and then he looked down at Molly with a grin as his eyes widened.

"Oh I see, Dr. Hooper. Trying to distract me from the case? It's... working," he purred while he spun them around, then pressing her back against the wall instead. He grasped her face and dipped his mouth to meet hers, but she stopped him.

"Sherlock, relax! I just wanted to talk to you," she laughed quietly.

"Mm, the look in your eyes would suggest otherwise." He spoke the words with his lips ghosting over the skin next to her own mouth.

"That's your fault," she breathed out, and couldn't help turning her face a fraction of an inch so that her mouth finally connected with his. She indulged in a brief kiss, but pulled away before things got too intense.

"Listen, try not to be insensitive about Greg and my sister."

"Why are you talking about them like a couple? They only just shook hands five minutes ago."

"Yes, I know. But you saw the same thing that I did downstairs. He's clearly interested. And she is too. I can tell, I know her. In fact, she was a bit interested even before you got back here with him. I may have told her a bit about him, and she was already looking forward to meeting him. So anyway, just don't be cruel."

He threaded fingers into her hair at the nape of her neck. "Cruel? You mean cruel like dragging me into a room, shutting the door, and pushing me against the wall... only to tell me you just want to talk? You are apparently the expert on cruelty." He pressed another passionate kiss to her mouth.

Molly pulled away giggling. "What's gotten into you? Don't forget we're in my mother's house! Take that energy and focus on the case!" She pushed at his chest.

"Hm, fine." He backed off, running his hands roughly through his hair as he turned.

"Come downstairs and I'll make you some tea, then maybe you can try to get some sleep. When are you back out there tomorrow?"

"First thing. They want no time wasted, naturally."

"Right... Well, just remember what I said, ok?" she said pointedly as she opened the door and they left the confines of the room.

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he followed her down the hall. "Oh yes, yes. No cruelty. I will refrain from embarrassing deductions and suggestions of baby names for the happy couple."

Molly had to stifle a snort of laughter as they descended the stairs to rejoin the rest of the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was that?! You guys like the fact that I'm building a brand new ship? Lol! Let's see, how bout... Bestrade perhaps? ;D


	10. Going Back to the Start (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting to the good stuff now with this visit. Hope you all enjoy it... ;)

Sherlock got up rather early. For him at least. He came down at seven thirty the next morning and found Lestrade already sitting at the kitchen island drinking his coffee and eating some toast.

"Sleep well, Lestrade?"

"I did actually. I know we're working a case, but I can't help feeling a little like this is a vacation. It's quiet and relaxing here. Had you visited before, with Molly?"

"No we haven't. Not together. I'd never been here before yesterday."

"Oh good morning Sherlock!" Mrs. Hooper said as she came into the kitchen. "You should really eat something. Sure you don't want anything?"

"Just coffee for me, thanks. I promised Molly I'd eat a little something for lunch though. If you have any sandwiches left over from last night I could just take one with me for the day."

"Sure, Sherlock. I'll just wrap it up for you... My, you were up late, Greg! I didn't hear you come down the hall till after midnight," Mrs. Hooper suddenly said as she turned to face him. Sherlock saw his ears turning a bit pink.

"Oh, um, yeah... We all got talking."

"I wasn't talking," Sherlock said, being not so helpful. "I actually went to bed around ten. Molly came to bed soon after... Who exactly got talking, I wonder?" He stared pointedly at Lestrade with a smirk on his face.

Lestrade gave him as secretive an irritated look as he could manage, with Mrs. Hooper standing there as well. "Well, yeah, Becky and I did talk for a while after the rest of you had gone to bed... Say, Mrs. Hooper, would you mind if I had a bit more coffee?"

"Oh sure Greg, help yourself," she said with a smile and passed the pot to him. "I'll just go see if Molly will be wanting to eat anything. I'll see you boys later!"

Greg sighed in relief as she left the room.

"Sherlock!" he hissed under his breath. "What are you trying to do? Get me kicked out of the house?"

"Why?" Sherlock asked, eyebrows raised in feigned innocence. "Did you do something that could get you kicked out of the house?"

"Oh shut up! I didn't do anything like you're clearly implying. We just talked... She's an amazing woman." He smiled a bit, looking into his coffee mug.

"A bit younger than you, isn't she?" Sherlock noted.

"Yeah, a bit. What's she, thirty? That's not too bad. I'm only just forty two."

"Mm, I suppose... Well you probably have quite a good chance. If genetics have anything to do with it, you'd be exactly what a Hooper woman would look for in a man."

"Oh yeah, and what's that?"

Sherlock looked up from his phone. "Close proximity to crime, danger, and a lot of corpses." He grinned at the detective inspector.

Lestrade laughed lightly and shook his head. "Ok, let's do this Sherlock. I'd like to solve this case as quickly as possible. Because I'm beginning to be very glad that I came here with you this week."

Molly came downstairs as they were getting coats on. "Oh, you two leaving now?"

"We are. Probably won't be back till dinner. Hopefully it'll be done, but I'm not so sure. Even if I figure out why this woman has gone missing, that doesn't mean I can immediately produce her to her family."

Molly encircled his neck with her arms and stood on tip toe to reach his mouth, pressing a light kiss on his lips. "You'll find her, one way or another. And don't worry about us, not that you were. We'll occupy ourselves. Becky took the day off, so she'll be able to spend time with me today. And she'll be staying for dinner again too." Molly glanced conspicuously toward Greg who was clearly paying attention.

"That'll be nice," Greg said with an obvious smile.

Sherlock rolled his eyes into the air, refraining from saying anything insulting. Then he looked back down at Molly and kissed her soundly before turning to leave through the door.

* * *

"This is more complex than we had thought. She's trying to cover her tracks. And she's doing a good job," Sherlock said as the two men climbed into the car that evening.

"Well you could be right though, she could very well be having an affair," Lestrade admitted.

"No. I'm beginning to think she wasn't. I find nothing suggesting an affair in her records and recent activities. And what I find when I look further back in fact, is nothing. Nothing back further than when she had met Peter. No past residence, jobs, or finances. Which is rather suspicious."

"You think she was trying to hide something? Or maybe she's not who she said she was."

"All possibilities. Though she thought it was working. For a while at least. She wouldn't have married the man if not. Because there's nothing she could have gained by the union. No clear motive for marrying him and then making a run for it. She simply wanted to marry him. So why leave?"

"Million dollar question," Lestrade grumbled.

"Don't start moping again, Lestrade!" Sherlock complained. "Especially since you know very well we are on our way back to the house that will contain more Hooper women than the two of us can both handle. Though, as for myself, I will readily confess that I would be much happier if it was only just the one."

"Not sure that'll ever stop being strange. You being in love with Molly, I mean." He said making a face.

"Why exactly? We both know you don't find it mysterious that a man could be attracted to Molly."

Lestrade was glad the car was dark and his embarrassment couldn't be so easily seen. "Yeah, yeah... I just didn't think any of that sentimental fluff mattered to you. I never thought you cared about stuff like that."

"I didn't. I don't..." Sherlock answered evenly. "But it turned out I do care about her."

Lestrade smiled to himself. When he'd first learned that the pretend romance between Sherlock and Molly had become very much a reality, he couldn't help feeling that Sherlock didn't deserve her. He cared deeply about Sherlock and considered him a friend, but after all he'd put Molly through, it just didn't seem right for him to turn around and be rewarded for it. And of course he'd always had a soft spot for Molly, so he wanted to see her truly happy and well treated. But now, he could honestly say that he couldn't be happier for the two of them. He'd never seen either of them so perfectly content. For lack of a more original term, they completed each other.

The two men arrived back at the house that was lit up inside. As they approached the door, Sherlock noticed Lestrade looking nervous.

"Oh relax, she's clearly interested in you," he huffed at the man.

Lestrade shot him a wide eyes look. "You think so? Really? I mean, if you think she is, she must be..."

"Don't get the wrong impression. I certainly wasn't spending my free mental energy deducing the level of attraction Becky Hooper had for you... but Molly was." and he gave Lestrade a half smile. "You're welcome."

Lestrade barely had time to control his grin before Molly opened the door to let them in.

* * *

An hour later the five of them had eaten and were sitting around the living room. Sherlock was laying along the couch and thinking with his head in Molly's lap, not really taking part in anyone's conversation, and Molly was treading her fingers through his hair. Her mother sat in the chair next to her talking about the latest family news.

Greg and Becky had wandered back into the kitchen since she'd wanted to get some wine, and Greg had happily agreed to help her. They ended up lingering there in the kitchen sipping from their glasses and leaning on the island.

"I'd love to go back to London some time," Becky smiled, as Greg had just finished talking about how glad he was to have some time off and get away from the city.

"I'm sure it holds more appeal to a visitor. I see the very worst that city has to offer, so it's not quite so romanticized for me. I know what it's capable of," he smiled ruefully.

"Well good thing the people of London have you then," she said sweetly and he came close to dropping his wine glass when she slid her fingers over his on top of the kitchen island. The contact was brief, she didn't let her hand linger too long, but it was enough to fluster the poor man.

He chuckled nervously before taking a swig of wine. "Well, um, Sherlock certainly helps. I have to call him more often than I should, I'm sure."

"You've known him for years then?"

"Yeah, I have. He's changed a lot in the past year or two. For the good, I mean. He's still Sherlock, of course. But there's a lot of good there now. There wasn't as much when I first knew him. Good thing the man had some friends forced on him. It's done wonders... And now _this_!" he said shaking his head as they both glanced over to where Sherlock lay contentedly with his eyes closed as Molly absentmindedly played with his hair.

Becky giggled. "Mm, big changes. I didn't know him before, but even I can see it. I mean based on what Molly had told me before we met him. She talked a lot about him of course... Right now though, I'm just surprised we never heard more about you," she said softly and she smiled at him in a way that lit up her face and made her eyes look even brighter.

Greg began to feel his face flush, and hoped she would attribute it to the wine. He was only refraining from leaning down to give this delightful woman a kiss because the close proximity of her mother in the adjoining room.

Becky cleared her throat and tucked some hair behind her ear, displaying a little bit of her own nerves. "So um, when did you notice that Sherlock was falling for Molly? Did you notice it while she was still with Tom?"

Greg frowned a little in confusion. "Still with Tom? No, I don't think that's when it started. I never saw anything then. I mean, not on Sherlock's side for sure."

"Oh really? Well, I suppose they must have concealed it pretty well. But you must have picked up on something once she broke up with Tom."

Greg tilted his head in more confusion. "Nah, I don't think so... I mean I never noticed anything mutual till they became a couple. I mean _actually_ became a couple. Not the stuff while you guys were visiting."

Becky then shifted her eyes for a moment. She stared at Greg, her expression changing a bit. "Wait, what do you mean, the stuff while we were visiting?"

"You know, the act. Just what they were doing while you and your mum were-" and then it hit him like a ton of bricks. Of course. How had he not seen it? They didn't know yet... and he could only think one thing. _Sherlock is going to murder me and nobody will ever find my body._

Becky blinked at him and he could see her chest rising and falling heavier as she began processing the things he had just said. She swallowed and licked her lips as she placed the wine glass on the island and crossed her arms in front of her body.

"Hang on a second, Greg. I think you need to explain what you mean by, _act_."

"Uh... well, um, I'm not really sure... you know I think this is something you should talk to your sister about-"

"Molly!" Becky called into the living room.

"You know, I didn't actually mean _now_!" Greg said with a pleading tone as she walked away from the kitchen and nearer to where Molly and Sherlock were on the couch. Greg ran his hands over his face and began to asses his options. Run up the stairs, out of the house, hide under the table...

"What Becky?" Molly answered with a little irritation as her sister had loudly interrupted the conversation she'd been having with their mother. Sherlock's eyes shot open as well and he sat up when he heard the tone in both women's voices.

Becky positioned herself in front of the couch and stared down at the two of them. "Molly, when exactly were you planning on telling us that you and Sherlock were not actually a couple while we visited those months ago?"

Sherlock's eyes widened and he whirled around toward the kitchen. "Oh for God's sake, Lestrade! Can't you keep your mouth shut?!" he growled at the man.

"I'm sorry, ok?! I'm sorry! I assumed they knew by now!" he said defensively as he threw his hands up.

Molly sighed and looked at her mother who's expression had begun looking a bit horrified. "Mum... sorry. Look, we were planning on telling you..."

"What is this?!" Becky continued. "Are you two not actually dating?"

"Yes! I mean yes, we are dating. We are now." Molly said sheepishly.

Becky looked back and forth between the two of them. "But you weren't before?"

"No, we were not." Sherlock then answered, hazarding a look at Molly's mother who's expression wasn't so warm.

"Why?" Mrs. Hooper asked quietly.

"It's sort of complicated, and a long story-" Molly began.

"Actually, Molly, I'd like for Sherlock to explain this," Mrs. Hooper said in her most motherly and controlled authoritative voice.

Molly stopped talking immediately, and looked nervously at Sherlock. Becky sat down then in the other chair next to her mother, waiting expectantly. Greg Lestrade, on the other hand, couldn't bring himself to get closer to the four of them. He leaned on the doorway, listening from there and still fearing for his safety later.

Sherlock looked around and groaned inwardly. He hadn't planned to do this now. He wanted to focus on solving the case first. He would admit that Molly was now a perfectly comfortable part of his life, but having a family feelings session was still decidedly not his area. And now he was forced to pull himself from the important facts and evidence of the day, and focus on making things right with Molly's family.

Sherlock took a deep breath, and began...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know, I cut it off at a mean place! But it was getting SO long, and I still had a lot more to cover in the whole visit before they head back to London. So I decided to chop it up a bit more and make this a 3 part prompt. :)


	11. Going Back to the Start (part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! It's long, but I finally finished up this prompt! Here's the third and final part of the visit to Molly's family. I feel like there's things I originally intended to do with this that never happened, but oh well! Hope it's good enough to make you all happy haha! Once again this prompt had come from Sherlockedinseattle (who specifically helped me decide that Lestrade would be the one to spill the beans by the way! You're awesome!) and MegHolmes. Thanks again, I'm so glad we got to cover this! Such an important part in a follow up to Winds of Change! Enjoy all you readers! ;)

* * *

The faces looking back at him were expectant. Sherlock was actually a bit impressed that Mrs. Hooper had insisted he do the explaining. She was wise enough to discern who was truly behind the start of this whole charade.

"As you are both most likely thinking already," he began slowly, "yes, this was indeed originally my doing. I was the one who suggested that I play the part of Molly's boyfriend during the time of your visit. It's understandable you're wondering why. The truth is that I had hurt her. I had hurt her again. It just happened to be the most recent in a long history of similar incidents in our past."

At that point, Sherlock looked intensely at Molly. "I hurt her, and I knew it. Partly because she made it quite clear to me." He turned his gaze back toward Molly's mother and sister.

"I felt the need to make some sort of grand gesture. What I offered to do was, as is typical of me, rather selfish at first. I wanted to have her back. Have the obedient friend back that I felt I needed. It wouldn't do to have her turning me away from Bart's. I confess that my idea stemmed from the level of disdain that you two displayed when speaking to Molly about her feelings for me. It... irritated me. In hindsight, the reason for the irritation may not have been what I thought it was at the time. But, regardless, I decided that Molly may enjoy an opportunity to prove you both wrong. And with some coaxing, she agreed."

Both women stared at Sherlock, with expressions that were difficult to read. Finally Becky spoke.

"So everything we saw, everything you said, it was all pretend?"

Sherlock stopped and drew a breath, then spoke again. "I believe that the truth is, Becky, the vast majority of what you saw was very real. But it did take me a while to catch on... I do always miss something."

"Quite a big something to miss. How can we believe that you're really all in now? I mean, how can she even know? Maybe you're faking that you love her! Big win for you, isn't it? You practically own the hospital at this rate!"

"Becky!" Molly hissed. She was not going to stay silent any longer. "Sherlock is in love with me, and I've never been so sure of it. He's changed his life for me! He wanted me, and accepted me into his home, and makes a place for me in his life. Not just when he needs me for something either. Don't you think I would know if this wasn't real? I know by now what it's like when this man says or does something just to get his own way! Believe me, I've seen it countless times!"

"Not. Making me. Sound. Better." Sherlock said under his breath.

"Look, this is all just a lot to take in," Mrs. Hooper said with a sigh.

"Forgive me, I didn't plan for you both to find out like this." Sherlock shot Lestrade another glare. "But we did intend to tell you, of course. I hope that in time, it will become clear to you both that my feelings for Molly are more than genuine. I regret that we hurt you in this deception... but I must confess that I do not regret that we did it."

Sherlock laced his fingers with Molly's and held her hand on top of his lap as he looked at her again and gave her a little half smile. "How could I have any regrets, when this is the outcome?" he said softly.

Greg broke the brief silence in the room. "He really does love her," he interjected.

"Shut up Lestrade! You are not forgiven yet!" Sherlock shot back immediately, and the poor man threw his hands up again in defeat.

"What did you plan on telling us? I mean, before, when you were lying to us," Mrs. Hooper asked.

"The plan was that I would tell you we'd broken up some time later," Molly answered. "That was it. It wasn't meant to go further than your two week visit... I was probably stupid to even agree. Because of course I fell in love with him all over again. But please believe me when I tell you, that as lovely as those two weeks were, the past six months since your visit have been the best of my life. It's crazy, and strange, and tiring, and frightening, and wonderful, all at the same time. It's everything I've ever wanted, and everything I never even knew I needed, and I couldn't be happier. Can we please just start fresh? I would hate for you to hold this over our heads forever." She looked hopefully at her mother and sister.

Becky and Mrs. Hooper looked at each other, and then back at Sherlock and Molly. Mrs. Hooper spoke first.

"I'm not going to hold it over your heads. I'm disappointed, of course. I hate to think I've been lied to for so long. But... as Sherlock said, this is the outcome." She gestured to the two of them. "And so, I find myself having a difficult time staying angry. This is what you want, Molly. What you've always wanted. And apparently it's now what you want, Sherlock. And so, I would be glad to try and start fresh, as Molly said."

Molly jumped up and crouched down to hug her mother. Then she looked at Becky. Becky stared at her for a second, then she sighed and offered a small smile.

"Ok, I suppose I'm willing to move forward as well." Becky stood to give her sister a hug. Then she looked down at Sherlock and pointed a now slightly playful accusing finger at him. "You! You are so sly! That talk we had in the park, my God! No wonder you looked so shocked!"

"What talk in the park?" Molly questioned.

"Ah yes, that's right! That was actually quite enlightening. I can now thank you for that discussion in full, Becky." Sherlock stood to give her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. Then he spoke to Molly. "That night, while you were with Mary, Becky told me in no uncertain terms that you would undoubtedly love me forever."

"What?!" Molly laughed at her sister.

"I did! I knew the relationship was new. So I wasn't sure he knew how deep you were in, so I told him. I wanted to make sure he understood how badly it would hurt you if it all didn't work out. I remember he looked rather shocked."

"It was more than I felt ready to hear at the moment, but of course it also got me thinking. I didn't usually dwell on how deep your feelings actually ran. And when I did... it was a bit overwhelming. But there was also something strangely pleasant about the idea... So thank you, Becky. You may have helped things along a bit." He gave her a little wink.

"Suppose I should say thank you as well," Molly added and she shoved her sister lightly. "Thanks for having such a big mouth!"

"Speaking of big mouths," Sherlock turned toward Lestrade, "remind me never to tell you anything... Ever. Again."

"Hey, you should have warned me they weren't aware of all this already! And I'm sorry, but I wasn't exactly thinking straight in the kitchen..." He ran his hand along the back of his neck, then daring to look over at Becky who was blushing.

"It wouldn't kill you to try a little deduction, Lestrade! It wouldn't have been so difficult!"

"Ah well, it's all done and over with now!" Mrs. Hooper said with a sigh as she got up from her chair. "Anybody else want some tea? I'm going to put the kettle on." and she made her way into the kitchen.

Becky walked slowly over to where Greg was standing and she stopped when she was very close to him. She leaned in so he could feel her breath on his ear, and she whispered, "don't worry, I'm not mad at you." She pulled away very slowly and smiled mischievously.

Greg cleared his throat and smiled back. He wondered if there was any possible way he could get everyone else to go off to bed this very instant.

Molly sat with Sherlock again, now that the other three were back in the kitchen. "Well, that was... interesting. I guess I can breath easy for the rest of the trip though. Bit of a weight off my shoulders."

"Yes, I suppose. Best to have it done... Glad I didn't end up on the street tonight. You mother and sister are as forgiving as you it seems."

"Because they already love you. I know that's why I keep on forgiving you." She tugged on the collar of his shirt, pulling him in for a lingering kiss.

"Mmm," he hummed as their lips separated and he clearly wasn't satisfied since he dove back in and continued kissing her.

"Yeah, we believe you now! You don't need to keep proving it! Disgusting!" Becky called over to them. Molly pulled away from Sherlock for a moment to stick her tongue out at Becky.

Becky then looked at Greg and laughed. "Are they always like that?"

"It's all or nothing with Sherlock. He'll disappear for days on a case, and I wouldn't be surprised if he barely communicated with her the whole time. Or he'll sit there thinking for a couple hours and refuse to register anything else that's going on around him. Then, on the other hand, he's all over her! I have walked into the morgue at the wrong moment more than once. Sherlock is all about Sherlock, so he's certainly not going to be terribly considerate of other people's discomfort!"

"Thanks for the warning!" Becky grimaced.

Sherlock and Molly came over to the kitchen though. They all had some tea, and about a half hour later Sherlock announced that he needed to say goodnight. He had to be alone and think, and process the way the case was working out so far. They needed to get back to work the following morning, and he wanted to be on top of his game.

Greg reluctantly admitted that he should get some rest as well. He couldn't help glancing at Becky longingly before completely leaving the kitchen, and Molly saw it more than clearly.

Mrs. Hooper decided she'd like to have a bath before bed, and the girls offered to finish cleaning up the kitchen for her. Molly was loading the dishwasher, and Becky was wiping down the counters, and for a while neither of them said anything. Finally Molly broke the silence.

"So, you're liking Greg quite a bit aren't you?"

"Maybe!" she said with a little laugh.

"He's great, Becky, really. I think he's a wonderful man. I'd tell you if there was any reason to stay away from him."

"I hope he makes a move before all of you leave. I mean, I don't want to be left wondering..."

"Honestly, I can't feel sorry for you. You've only known the man for a day! How long did I have to wait?" She kicked her leg out behind her, connecting with her sisters behind.

"That's not my problem! Maybe if you had been a bit more forward and just jumped him one day when he popped into the lab, you'd be married with a baby on the way by now!"

"I can't imagine that would have been well received. I thought about it, believe me. Crossed my mind multiple times. But he's Sherlock! For all I knew, he could have just looked at me like I had three heads if I'd done that!"

Molly then faced her sister and did her best impression of Sherlock's eyes as they alternately narrowed in deduction and then widened in surprise. The two women were soon doubled over and covering their mouths to stifle the giggles as tears streamed down their cheeks. Becky tried to calm her voice momentarily and brought it down to the deepest octave she could manage, as she also tried to imitate the consulting detective. "That was... fascinating." This merited a whole new wave of hysterics from them and it took a couple minutes for them to relax again.

Molly finally let out a deep breath as she wiped tears from her eye. "I think he just had to do it all in his own time. He's always got to work things out in that mind of his."

"Well, I'm glad for you, I really am," Becky said as she wiped tears of laughter from her own eyes. "But honestly I don't feel like being patient right now. I want something, anything, to happen with Greg before he leaves. At least I'd have something to work with."

"I'm sure you won't be disappointed. He's certainly interested, so I'm sure he'll at least say something."

"I'm going to head home ok? I'll come back over tomorrow after work though." Becky made her way to the door.

"Ok, I'll see you tomorrow then. Night night!"

Becky went home, and Molly headed upstairs where Sherlock lay on top of the covers still dressed. He was clearly deep in thought. But he spoke once Molly had changed and was climbing into bed.

"What was so funny downstairs? I could hear you all the way up here."

Molly pressed her lips together to keep from giggling all over again. "Oh... nothing."

* * *

Sherlock and Greg spend the next two days working on the case of the missing Lucy Edwards. Sherlock was caught between believing that she was dead due to the lack of any sort of activity under her accounts and cards, or that she knew how to truly disappear. On the second day, he finally got a lead that seemed helpful. Her boss had observed that for the two weeks before her going missing, there was always a blue car parked just outside the office. When she left, the car would be gone. No plate number had been taken note of though.

Sherlock now began to believe that someone was watching this woman. He questioned the husband and his family multiple times and they knew of nobody who could have had any ill will toward Lucy. She had no friends from her past and her family was dead. Greg had told Sherlock that this was of course possibly just a random abduction and murder. And it certainly didn't have to be anyone who knew her. There was just nothing helpful turning up.

Until the evening of that second day. Sherlock and Greg were just about to arrive back at Molly's family home, when Peter Edwards called Sherlock. He had received three phone calls in the course of a couple minutes. Each call hung up once he answered. The caller id had registered as a small restaurant not too far from them. Greg looked up the location on his phone and showed Sherlock. It was also right next to a small air strip.

"It's twenty five minutes from here Sherlock," Greg told him as he turned around in the road, heading back in that direction.

"I'll get us there in fifteen," Sherlock answered simply and stepped on the accelerator.

And he did. The two men rushed into the little cafe and stopped at the front counter.

"May I borrow your phone?" Sherlock asked, catching his breath.

"Oh, sure, here you are." The woman handed him the phone.

"Look, that's Peter Edwards number on the redial list," he showed Lestrade. Then he took out a picture of Lucy and called the woman back over. "Excuse me, have you seen this woman?"

"Oh I have actually! She was here, but they left about twenty minutes ago. Had some bags with them too. Probably on their way to the air strip."

Greg and Sherlock looked at each other. They both said 'thank you' simultaneously to the woman and rushed back out. They drove the minute down the road and stopped at the small air strip. Both jumped out of the car and saw that there was a plane being loaded with a couple bags. And then Sherlock spotted a small woman with blonde hair that looked very like the picture he carried.

"Get your gun, Lestrade," Sherlock said as they advanced to the small plane.

A man caught sight of them and suddenly dropped the bag he was holding, and looked like he was about to bold.

"Freeze!" Lestrade shouted, instantly pointing the gun at him. "Hands on your head! Do it now!"

The man did stop and slowly brought his hands up. In the background, the blonde woman crumpled to the ground on her knees, starting to sob.

"Go get her, Sherlock. I'll keep him busy." Lestrade came up closer to the man, keeping the gun pointed at him. "Get on the ground! Don't move!"

"I didn't do anything! She's leaving him for me! That's not a crime!" the man shouted back, but did get on the ground.

"Lucy Edwards?" Sherlock asked as he came over to the woman, gingerly helping her up.

"Y-yes... Th-that's me," she managed.

"Don't lie!" the man on the ground screamed. "You're Jane Lawrence!"

"Shut up!" Lestrade yelled as he began calling the police.

"Is Jane Lawrence your real name?" Sherlock questioned.

She looked at him fearfully and finally nodded in the affirmative.

"I can explain... I can explain everything, I swear," she said, tears falling again. "My husband, did he get the phone calls?"

"He did. You did exactly what was needed in order to be found. I didn't do much in this case... All I did was break the speed limit," he smiled at her.

* * *

The case of the missing woman did indeed turn out to be an abduction. Though it wasn't exactly by force. The woman named Jane Lawrence did indeed exist. She chose to abandon her life and identity a few years prior in an effort to escape an extremely abusive relationship with Stanley Frank. She'd come close to being killed. But the ex-boyfriend had tracked her down, after an extended amount of time and a lot of obsessed effort. When the woman who was now known as Lucy Edwards was confronted, she was given two options. She was either to leave her husband and stay with Stanley, or Stanley assured her that her husband Peter would be killed. And she didn't doubt for a moment that he would do it.

"So she left. She took what she had with her at that moment and she went with him."

"Brave woman," Mrs. Hooper commented as they all sat around listening to Sherlock and Lestrade relating the events of the evening and how the case turned out.

"A bit stupid as well. She should have involved the police," Sherlock added.

"She was an abused woman," Becky said as she handed Greg a glass of wine. "She saw that man as the most powerful and dangerous thing in the world. It had probably been drilled into her head for a long time. Fear is very powerful. And she thought this was the only way to protect her husband."

"She was also very smart. If she hadn't managed to covertly make those phone calls to her home while Stanley was paying at the cafe, they would have been in the air right now," Greg reminded them. "Told us it was her last chance and she knew it. And she figured she better take it."

"Well I'm glad it all turned out alright... Suppose this means we'll be going back to London tomorrow?" Molly asked.

"We should. I have clients waiting impatiently for me there as well. But, at least you were able to enjoy a few days here."

"It was really nice of you to let us stay here Mrs. Hooper. We all appreciate it." Greg smiled warmly at her.

"It was my pleasure, really. I'm glad they finally had an excuse to come visit. Perhaps next time it can be without the bother of a case, and we'll get to see you even more Sherlock!"

Sherlock drew a slow breath and then answered. "I think you'll find I can only muster up so much social energy Mrs. Hooper. You'll probably want to forget whatever slightly false impression I gave on your visit to London... But of course, if Molly ever wished to come, I could be persuaded to accompany her for a short visit." He gave the woman a half smile.

It was late by that time, so all of them decided to get to bed. Becky said goodnight, but promised to be the one to drive them to the train station the next day, and Molly could see the glimmer of hope in Greg's eyes. They all went to sleep, ready to get back to their lives as usual the next day.

* * *

"I'll miss you so much!" Mrs. Hooper said as she clung to her eldest daughter. "I got used to having you at home again. It's going to be so quiet now."

"I'll bother you all the time mum, and soon you'll be begging me for some quiet again," Becky offered with a playfully evil laugh.

There were lots of thanks and hugs given and finally they all piled into Becky's car. Mrs. Hooper stood in the driveway waving as they pulled away from the house. Molly sighed, and felt sorry to be leaving her mother all alone in that big house once again.

"She'll be fine Molly, don't worry," Becky assured her, reading her sister's thoughts. "I'm close by, so she's never really alone."

Greg sat quietly for the ride to the station. He was trying to decide what exactly to do or say at this parting. He had enjoyed this trip more than he ever thought he would. Every evening he'd ended up spending more time with Becky Hooper than any of the rest of them. They'd end up off in their own little world in the corner of the room and couldn't be bothered much with anything else while they were talking. He was truly sorry to be leaving her right then, and he hoped she was feeling the same way. They had exchanged numbers at one point during the visit, but it wasn't with the promise of anything more. It was simply for the purpose of communicating while Greg and Sherlock were working the case.

When the all stood on the train platform, Molly and Becky said their lengthy goodbyes as the two men stood by.

Lestrade cleared his throat, and began to say under his breath, "Sherlock? Would you mind, er- I mean, maybe you could just..."

"Would you like Molly and I to board the train ahead of you, thus giving you the opportunity to say your own private, and perhaps affectionate goodbye to the younger Miss Hooper?" Sherlock looked at him with a slightly smug smile of understanding.

Lestrade smiled at him. "For once I'm happy to have you deduce me."

"Alright Molly, better get these on the train," Sherlock coaxed, handing her a bag as he picked up two others.

"Talk to you soon Molls! I'll text you," Becky smiled as the two of them headed to the train. She smiled inwardly as she saw Greg failing to follow them and staying where he was with his bag at his feet. He watched them board the train, then turned to Becky and smiled.

"Well, thanks. I mean, I know it wasn't your place we stayed at. But still, you took some time off from work for all this, and I enjoyed getting to know you a little bit."

"Well I feel the same. It was nice." Becky took a couple steps closer to him.

"So, maybe you'll end up coming to London again some time. I know you said you'd like to visit again."

"I would, yes. So... hopefully Molly and Sherlock invite me soon."

Greg looked into her eyes and felt something that he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt confidence. He'd lost a lot of his confidence in his dealings with the fairer sex after his roller coaster of a failed marriage. He lost confidence after that, which in turn made him less appealing to the women he'd been interested in since, which then lowered his confidence all the more. It had been a bit of a vicious cycle for the past couple years. And somehow, miraculously in his estimation, he felt that melting away when Becky Hooper looked at him. She made it easy to say the next words that came out of his mouth.

"Who said anything about Molly and Sherlock?" he asked softly, with a sly smile. "What if I'm asking you to visit me?"

Becky's mouth began to spread in a delightful slow smile, and her cheeks colored a bit. She took another step closer then.

"Well then, I'd say... that's even better," she answered sweetly as her eyes drifted to his lips.

Greg didn't hesitate when he saw this. He touched her face gently, then reached around the cradle the back of her neck as he leaned in to kiss her. And when her arms immediately encircled his neck and she clung to him, he could swear the heavens opened up and the angels started singing. He could have stood on that train platform all day and kissed her while she held tightly onto him. They finally pulled back, just far enough to look at each other, both of their eyes were on fire. Becky swallowed and took a shaky breath, then spoke quickly.

"Right, so how's next weekend for you?"

"Yep, sounds perfect to me," he answered at an equally lightening speed.

Becky grinned before reaching up on tip toe to press one more kiss on his lips. That one was filled with promise and expectation, and that made it easier for Greg to smile and walk away with his suitcase. He waved as he got on the train and made his way to where Sherlock and Molly were sitting.

Greg flopped down in his seat with a happy sigh, and Molly and Sherlock exchanged a look. He looked across at Sherlock and smiled with his face still a bit flushed.

"Best. Case. Ever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needless to say, Bestrade may be making cameos in future chapters. They get me right in the feels!


	12. The (Other) Woman part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... I couldn't hold back. I meant to give myself a little break after that three part prompt I just finished. But, this next idea was too exciting and it quickly pulled me right back into writing! This is one that I actually thought up all by my little old self. Personally, though I have LOVED all the prompts I've gotten thus far, I needed a serious break from the fluffy candy coated sweet stuff. Time for some angst! I'm sure it's not a big huge mystery about where this chapter is headed. And I hope you all enjoy it to the full! ;)

Things were just wonderful in Molly's life. She really couldn't imagine being any happier than she was with Sherlock. He did, of course, drive her rather crazy sometimes. But that was just Sherlock being... Sherlock. And in a way, it was the crazy things that she loved most. Those were the things that made him the boyfriend that was unlike any other boyfriend she ever had.

Although living with Sherlock was never boring, they had settled into a very comfortable routine. 221B Baker Street was now home to Molly. She no longer felt a bit like a visitor, or a guest in his space. It was her space also. It was their space. It made her happy that Sherlock adjusted rather easily. Every day she was reminded, in some way or another, that he wanted her there. No matter how unusual his typical Sherlock behavior could be, he never made her feel as though he wished they hadn't done this. He never gave her any cause for doubt about his feelings. Molly was very sure that Sherlock Holmes loved her, and wanted her to stay in his life. And she couldn't imagine being with anyone else.

That was all well and good... until Molly came home from her shift one day and made a startling discovery.

"Oh hello my fluffy little man!" Molly cooed at Toby as he wound around her legs. "Are you hungry? Let mummy change and then I'll feed you ok?"

Molly set her bags down and stopped in the kitchen along the way. She started the kettle going and hummed quietly as she made her way down the hall and into the bedroom. She pushed the door open, turned, and then jumped back while pressing her hand over her mouth to stop the gasp from loudly escaping her lips.

Molly stood there frozen for a second, wondering what exactly she should do next. Finally she slowly backed out of the bedroom the way she'd come, and crept back down the hallway. She grabbed her mobile and hand bag, then stepped out of the flat into the stair well. She dialed Sherlock with shaky fingers and prayed that he pick up this time.

"Yes?"

"Sherlock! Thank God you answered!"

"Why are you whispering? And why aren't you texting me? You do remember I'm on a case."

"Sherlock, listen to me, I think you need to come home. We have a bit of a... situation here at Baker Street. I'm not quite sure what to do. If you can't come, I think I should call Greg."

"What's wrong Molly? What's going on?" She could hear from the change in his tone that he was beginning to take this call more seriously.

"Well, I just got home and was going to get changed. And there a, uh... There's a woman sleeping in our bed."

Silence on the other end of the line.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes. I'm here," he answered in a strangely even voice.

"Ok... well, what should I do?"

She heard him exhale slowly, then he spoke again. "I'm on my way as we speak. Take your mobile and just wait in the sitting room, just to make sure she stays where she is. Don't do anything else yet. If she wakes up, text me. But whatever you do, do not engage in conversation with her. I will be there within the hour, it's the best I can do."

"Um, ok... Sherlock, should I be afraid?"

A bit more silence. "I'll be there as fast as I can." He hung up.

Molly hung up and took a couple deep breaths. She crept back into the flat and took her place on the couch with her mobile clutched in her hand and her pepper spray tucked safely under her thigh. She wondered what kind of criminal breaks into someone's flat in order to sleep in their bed? Certainly not the murdering kind. They don't come early to take a nap first. Even a thief wouldn't do such a ridiculous thing. Molly hadn't got a terrible good look at her, but she didn't look homeless. Looked rather clean and healthy and normal to her.

She figured the most likely explanation was that this woman was a client. Perhaps a repeat client. Maybe she wasn't completely right in the head and assumed she could take liberties like this. That did make Molly worry. Wouldn't a person like that be a bit crazy? What else could she be capable of?

Molly sat there stewing and experiencing frequent heart palpitations for over a half hour... and then she heard movement in the bedroom. She tried to relax, and immediately did what Sherlock told her to do, and she sent him a text.

I HEAR HER WAKING UP. -MH

An instant reply came in.

I'LL BE THERE IN 10. REMEMBER WHAT I SAID... AND YES, GO AHEAD AND USE THE PEPPER SPRAY IF NECESSARY. THOUGH I DON'T THINK IT WILL BE. -SH

Molly read the words a few times in an effort to calm herself as she continued to hear rustling in the bedroom. She heard the closet door open and then close, and she wondered if this woman was stealing things. But she did as Sherlock instructed and stayed put.

Finally, she heard the bedroom door swing open, and heard feet padding down the hallway. She even heard the woman's voice as she made a little clicking noise with her tongue to greet Toby who had gone down the hall to investigate. Some watch cat he was... And just as Molly was starting to expect a gasp of surprise from the intruder as she turned the corner and saw that the flat owner was actually home, this woman walked casually out of the kitchen and right into the sitting room to look directly at her while barely blinking.

"Oh hello, Dr. Hooper. Nice to find you at home," she said calmly and confidently, as she placed her hands on her hips and looked at her from where she stood in front of the fire place.

There stood this woman, the very picture of feminine beauty and charm. Her sharp, striking features stood out easily from across the room. Her dark and slightly wavy hair was hanging loose over her shoulders. And her perfect slim hourglass figure was easily seen even in the dressing gown she was wearing... Sherlock's navy silk dressing gown, to be exact. She looked right at home as she smiled at Molly and took a seat in the chair... in Sherlock's chair. This strange woman looked so at ease, that Molly suddenly felt a chill go through her, and she had the feeling like she was the one that didn't belong.

"I must say, I was rather surprised to find that you were living here. Pretty shocking turn of events. Just when you think you know someone!" she said with a little laugh.

Molly stared silently at first, but was beginning to get more curious as the seconds ticked by. What in the world was going on here?

"How uh, how do know- know me?"

"Well, I make it my business to know who I'm fooling. Oh, it was a long time ago of course, but I never forget a name, or a face. Little did I know I'd encounter you again under these circumstances!" She gestured gracefully around the flat.

Molly shook her head a little, and then reminded herself about Sherlock's instructions. But it was too late now. She wouldn't be able to sit here mute. And why would Sherlock ask her to anyway?

"Sorry but- I mean... I've never met you before." Molly squeaked out.

"Oh I know you haven't. If you had met me before, you'd certainly remember. I can guarantee you that." The woman smiled at her almost... seductively?

"Sherlock Holmes will be here in just a few minutes, you should know," Molly said defensively. "He's a detective. Is that why you're here? Are you a client?"

"I am, as a matter of fact, if he'll have me." She grinned, lighting up her piercing eyes.

 _Hurry up Sherlock._ She prayed as she bounced her leg nervously.

And thankfully, about a couple minutes of awkward silence later, she heard Sherlock coming up the steps. Molly jumped up right away and came to the door as it opened and Sherlock stormed in. The woman in Sherlock's chair rose as well.

The air in the little flat turned very thick in that moment. Sherlock froze once he was inside and had shut the door behind him. He stood there staring back at the woman by his chair. Her lips began to curl in a slow smile. But Sherlock's features remained unmoved. Finally, he reached out to put a protective arm around Molly's shoulders.

"What exactly are you doing here?" he asked slowly.

"Not a very warm welcome, Mr. Holmes. Can't an old friend drop by?"

Molly looked back and forth between Sherlock's stony face, and this woman's glowing features. _Old friend?_

"I thought this was a client," Molly said to Sherlock.

"I'd like to be, you're right," came the woman's answer.

"Why should I take you on as a client?"

"As you may recall, Mr. Holmes, I like to avoid dying. Seems someone wants me dead... again."

Molly's tolerance was beginning to wane by this point. This woman had broken into their flat, put on Sherlock's dressing gown, was waltzing around like she owned the place, and was acting like the consulting detective's best friend. She'd had just about enough. She stepped out from under Sherlock's arm and let the words fly out.

"Excuse me, but what makes you think that he'll help you? You've just broken in! We should be calling the police right now!"

"Molly..." Sherlock began in a quiet but warning tone. But she didn't care.

"What business do you have going through his things and putting on his clothes and sleeping in our bed?"

" _Our_ bed? My, my... dangerous disadvantage Mr. Holmes." she smirked at Sherlock, looking past the small woman who was speaking to her.

Molly didn't see behind her how Sherlock's jaw clench at the woman's words. She continued.

"May I ask who you are? Since you seem to know exactly who I am!" Molly asked heatedly.

The woman stepped forward a bit so that she was closer to Molly. This was intimidating, not only because she was a few inches taller than Molly, but also because of the way her eyes dug into Molly's face. Completely unforgiving and unafraid.

"How rude of me. Though I had hoped that my reputation would precede me." She briefly threw another glance at Sherlock. Then she extended a perfectly manicured hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Hooper. My name is Irene Adler."

Her hand hung out in the open space though, and wasn't received. Molly stared back at her, dumbfounded. She swallowed thickly and began shaking her head a little as she tried to understand what this woman had just said.

"N-no, that's, that's not possible... you're dead," she whispered.

"Oh! Oh I see... Well, Mr. Holmes I'm flattered. You are awfully good at keeping a secret. Though, given the circumstances, it may not have been the wisest thing to do."

Molly whirled around to face Sherlock, the facts becoming all too clear to her. No shock was written on his features. He didn't look pleased, but he certainly wasn't surprised. And she realized that even if Irene hadn't just told her verbally, Molly would have been able to see it all over Sherlock's face. He knew Irene was alive.

"How?" she pushed out. "H-how did you know?"

Sherlock licked his lips and opened his mouth, but Irene spoke first.

"It would be rather difficult for him not to know, seeing as he's the one that saved my life."

Molly watched as Sherlock momentarily clamped his mouth and eyes shut, then looked back at her. Again, she could see that this was the truth. He was wordlessly confirming her claim.

"You, you knew that wasn't her? In the morgue that Christmas night?"

"Oh no, he thought that was me. I am rather good." Irene smiled.

Suddenly Sherlock found his voice.

"I think you've said enough for now, Miss Adler! Perhaps you could try letting me answer my girlfriend- yes, I said girlfriend- myself!"

She looked rather amused at his tone, but turned and went back to sit in his chair with a smirk on her face as Sherlock began to address Molly.

"Molly, I did think she was dead that night. And for some time afterward as well. However... she later turned up alive. I helped her, but she betrayed me. She almost destroyed my brother in the process, and caused significant damage within the government... Almost." then Sherlock looked past Molly to meet Irene's gaze for a moment. "In the end, she lost. And she was left with nothing."

He looked back to Molly. "Some time later though, I did save her life. She was almost beheaded by terrorists in Karachi, Pakistan. I... prevented that from happening. As far as most people know though, she is a dead woman. Most believe that she did die on that Christmas night. And for the few that knew she didn't, they believe she was indeed beheaded in Karachi. Till now," and his voice dropped a bit. "I alone knew of her survival."

Molly stared back at him, with darkened eyes. Her lips parted a couple times briefly, but she couldn't quite decide what should come out. There was so much to take in. So much to process that she hadn't known. So much that she hadn't been told...

"Molly, understand that it was not my secret to tell and-"

"No. No, Sherlock," she finally said firmly. "I'm not going to talk about this right now. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Not till she'd gone. You let me know when she's gone, and then we can talk."

Molly shot one look at Irene, who still seemed to be reading her in a disconcerting way, and then she walked quickly away down the hall and into the bedroom, shutting the door with a thud.

Sherlock's eyes followed the path that Molly took and then blinked when he heard the door slam. It took him a moment to meet Irene's cool stare again. She spoke, once he finally looked at her.

"Perhaps I should have texted first," she said flippantly.

"Perhaps you should have stayed dead."

"Why? Because you feel guilty about saving my life?"

"No. Because you were _supposed_ to _stay_ dead," he said in a low growl.

"I needed to stay dead. For a while. But I'd like my life back now. A girl can only do so much in hiding. Not all threats remain forever, especially now that Moriarty is gone. Much of what was hanging over my head was connected to his network. He never did like the fact that I'd failed him. But that's all over and done with now," she said with a wave, then got up and walked lazily around the room while playing with the smooth sash of the dressing gown. "In fact I almost came back earlier this year. But a little message on the telly discouraged me. Seems to have blown over though. I'd venture to say it was a hoax. I bet only you know for sure," she said giving him a sly smile and biting her lip.

"I won't be telling you anything I know... and you need to leave."

"But you haven't even heard my case yet, Mr. Holmes! I'm just trying to make sure you don't get bored," she purred, and Sherlock noticed how she glanced in the direction of the hallway when speaking the words.

"I will deal with you later, but you cannot stay here." Sherlock took out his mobile, dialing quickly and putting the phone to his ear.

"Where else am I supposed to go, Mr. Holmes? I'm not quite safe yet, and don't pretend you don't care about that," she retorted as he waited to have his call answered.

"Hello, brother mine. Should I be worried? Why are you phoning me?" Mycroft said on the other end.

"You probably should be worried," he said as he watched Irene sit back in his chair comfortably. "I have a favor to ask of you. A rather large one in fact. It's not your problem, it's mine. Entirely mine. But I need for you to take care of it for me, temporarily."

"Well that sounds like what I do on a daily basis, Sherlock. Though it's not often you have to ask. What exactly is the problem this time?"

"Two words... Irene. Adler."

Mycroft was silent for a moment as he took this in and made a number of easy deductions. "Sherlock, how could you?" he breathed out finally.

"We can discuss it later, but right now the priority would be to get her out of my flat. If you would be so kind as to send a car, I will turn her over to your _safe,"_ he looked pointedly at Irene, "keeping until I can properly deal with her."

"I will do nothing to keep that woman safe, Sherlock. How dare you ask me to."

"I am not asking for her sake, Mycroft. If you care at all about me, and if you care at all about Molly Hooper, you will send a car right now and you will get this woman out of my flat." He controlled his voice from raising as loudly and desperately as it wanted to go.

There was another moment of silence, and Sherlock heard Mycroft finally let out a sigh. "Fine... On its way, brother. You have three days. Three days, and she's out on the street. Danger, or no danger. I threw her out to die once before, and I'd happily do it again. And yes... we will discuss it later." Then Mycroft hung up.

Sherlock stared off into the empty air as he stuck the phone back in his pocket. "Your car is on its way," he said simply, and then took his coat and scarf off, hanging them by the door.

"That desperate to get rid of me? Things certainly have changed, haven't they?

"What did you bring with you? Did you leave anything in the bedroom? The car should be here shortly, you'll need your things," he said, ignoring her words.

She got up from the chair and crossed he room to stand directly in front of him. "The clothes on your floor aren't of consequence. They were stolen rags. I much prefer this. So soft," she said sliding her hands slowly down her torso on the smooth fabric of the dressing gown.

Sherlock stared directly into her eyes, never faltering his gaze downward where she wanted him to look. Much the same as the day she'd first introduced herself. She backed down for the moment and walked away again.

"Though I did bring this," She picked up a file from the kitchen table. "I was going to be showing this to you. My case. Perhaps you would do me the honor of taking a look at it yourself. You'll know where to find me of course."

Sherlock took it out of her hands and placed it on the coffee table behind him. "I know where to find you, yes. And I'm a man of my word. I will be in touch by tomorrow. I will not leave you for my brother to deal with... Though I will certainly leave that option open. In case you become at all difficult." He gave her a warning stare.

She smiled. "Oh, Mr. Holmes, don't you know me at all? I'm _always_ difficult."

Sherlock walked away and stood by the window, watching the street like a hawk for the sight of a big black car. He stayed there, statue still for ten minutes. Finally the car pulled up and he saw four large men get out.

"It seems your ride is here, Miss Adler," he said, turning to her as the knock sounded on the door.

"So it seems," Irene sauntered over and ran the lapel of his suit jacket between her fingers briefly before whispering, "Till next time Mr. Holmes."

He said nothing as she turned and opened the door, leaving with the men that Mycroft had sent along. Mycroft wasn't interested in taking chances this time, and Sherlock certainly couldn't blame him.

The door shut, and Sherlock watched out the window as she was helped into the car and it soon drove away. He spared a moment to take his phone out and quickly send a text to Mycroft.

THANK YOU. -SH

He got no reply, but that didn't surprise him. This would be a chip on his brother's shoulder for quite some time most likely. But that wasn't exactly out of the ordinary. He'd angered his brother plenty of times, and in the end he always came around. One way or another. That wasn't what concerned him at the moment.

What did concern him was a certain pathologist that was sitting in his bedroom... their bedroom, waiting to talk to him. Sherlock took off his suit jacket, laid it on the back of his chair, and started down the hallway.

He stopped at the door, and knocked...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Sherlock! You're in some serious trouble now! I'm having fun with this since I've never written Irene Adler before in my other stories. I actually had a bit of an issue with myself in Winds of Change when I wrote it that Sherlock never told Molly the truth about Irene. After the fact I was like, wait why did he do that? So it had to be addressed. And just in time, since as I said, I needed a fluff break! Yay for drama! ;D


	13. The (Other) Woman part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we have the conclusion to the Irene saga. I think I managed to bring some closure to them all. Hope you all enjoy it! ;)

"Come in Sherlock," Molly called softly.

Sherlock entered the bedroom to find Molly sitting on the bare mattress with her hands folded in her lap. The bedding had all been removed and neatly piled in the corner, ready for washing... He couldn't blame her.

"She's gone. I called Mycroft," he said as he took a seat on the bed a couple feet away.

Molly only nodded in response. There was about a minute of silence before Sherlock spoke again.

"Forgive me Molly," he murmured, in the way that usually made her breath catch in her throat. But she still stayed silent for a while.

"Sherlock, you- you lied to me."

"I... realize that, yes," he answered quietly.

"You've done a lot of things to me over the years Sherlock. You've been inconsiderate, you've insulted me, you've ignored me, you've used me ungratefully and manipulated me... But you've never lied to me before. I'm not sure what to think. It's not something I ever thought I'd have to take from you. And there's a lot that I was, and still am, prepared to take."

Sherlock wasn't sure what to think either. Her icy manner unnerved him. He'd almost rather she become hysterical and angry. He'd asked for her forgiveness. That's what you do. Now what?

"Can you tell me why?" she asked.

"I already told you that it wasn't my secret to tell."

"Actually, I wanted to go a bit further back. I wanted to know why you saved her life. And please, please, be honest," she said in a weary pleading tone.

Sherlock looked at her for a moment, trying to decide what to say. Not because he was planning on lying. But because he'd never had to answer this question before. He had barely answered the question for himself. Finally he drew a slow breath, and opened his mouth to speak.

"I think, to understand why, you need to understand exactly how I beat her. You remember the phone I was x-raying in the lab that time? You thought it was my girlfriend's. Well, it was actually Irene's. It contained information and files and pictures that Mycroft needed. But it was pass code protected. I couldn't figure it out. Till the very last minute. It all came together in my mind. And I realized that although she was using me and manipulating me, the reality was that she felt something real for me. I deduced it. I deduced her, the way that I do with everything."

Molly began to feel a bit sick in the pit of her stomach. She listened to him speak, and she could hear sadness in his voice. Sadness in the way he described his dealings with that woman. She continued to listen silently.

"It turned out that my deductions were absolutely correct. And that was her downfall. The phone was locked with my name. The letters S-H-E-R. So that it read I AM SHER LOCKED... She needed to be stopped, that was certain. And she was being aided by Moriarty, so together they were near impossible to stop. But once the phone was unlocked, it was given to Mycroft and the problem was immediately solved."

"So... that was it?"

"No," he answered somberly. "That wasn't really it. What I didn't describe to you yet was how I did it... I humiliated her. I deduced her in a cruel way, making her look like a fool. I don't believe you need a description of what that would have been like for her. And the truth was that I wanted to do that in the moment. I wanted her to suffer for using me the way she did. And in doing so, I not only stopped her...I hurt her. I could have lived with that, certainly I have before. But, I also made it clear to Mycroft that he could simply let her go. Because if he did, she would surely not survive. She no longer had the protection of her precious secrets with which to manipulate people. Mycroft clearly thought that was an excellent plan, because that's what she did."

"But you saw her? After that?" Molly asked hesitantly.

"I... looked for her. I knew that I'd essentially sent her off to her death. I realized that her sentimental feelings for me, and my exposing them, were the reason that her life was in danger. I honestly wasn't sure I could live with that. I didn't know if I could live with the fact that I'd sent her off to her death, regardless of what she'd done... Eventually I tracked her down. And I was just in time."

Molly was silent for a minute, unable to deny that she saw some of the logic. But there was still the question of...

"And... what happened then?"

"I prevented her execution. I killed a couple of terrorist in the process, and helped her escape. I helped her to get a ticket on a plane. A small plane that was headed for a remote area of France. That was the last time I saw her."

Molly nodded. This was the technical explanation of what happened when he saved her. But it wasn't exactly what she wanted to know.

"She kissed me," his words split through her brief internal thoughts and caused her to meet his gaze.

"Oh," Molly responded quietly, nodding again. What else could she really expect? She had been thinking it could easily have been more than that.

"And I truly mean that, _she_ kissed me. I have never felt for her the way I feel for you, and I've never ever once lied to you about that. I wish you could believe me," he said softly.

"I- I do. I mean, I know you love me... But you've always said you trust me! How could you not trust me with the truth of this whole history?"

Sherlock ran a hand through is hair and sighed. "I understand. But Molly, I never thought this information would even be relevant. If she had done what she said, and stayed away forever, neither of us would ever have laid eyes on her again! None of it would have mattered."

"It matters to me!" she said, more desperately. "It matters that you kept it from me. Don't you know how that makes you look? It makes you look like you have something to hide, or like you're guilty of something! If you want to talk about trust, how about the question of my trust in you? How can I trust you the same way now?"

Sherlock's eyes looked hurt at that statement. He looked away from her after a moment. "Perhaps I was also trying to avoid a scenario like this one."

"What do you mean?"

"Well certainly I never considered telling you all of this before we were actually together. But the truth is that I did think about it after we were. And even in my limited knowledge of romantic relationships, I could foresee problems if I were to have laid out all the facts to you as I just have... Can you honestly tell me that you would have been content to know that I saved her life and she was out there somewhere? Wouldn't it still have made you suspect? Sometimes I'm gone for days on end, Molly. Sometimes I'm up all night on my laptop or my phone. Would you never have doubted me then? I don't believe that it would have prevented all that you are experiencing at this moment."

"It would have helped, Sherlock! It would have been you, telling me because you wanted to. Not because the woman turned up napping in our bed!" she said angrily gesturing to the bare mattress beneath them.

There was silence then. For a minute or so. They both sat there, having said what needed to be said, and wondering where exactly to go from there. Finally Sherlock looked cautiously over at her and slowly reached his hand out to place it on her's where it lay beside her leg. But to his horror, she pulled her hand away.

"Sherlock, please don't," she said sadly.

The weight of the situation came crashing down on him. This was bad. Worse than other things he'd done. He'd never been afraid before. Afraid of losing...

"Molly, please tell me now. Please, do me the courtesy of telling me if- if you no longer want-"

She whirled to face him again and cut him off. "Don't finish that sentence. Don't even finish those words. You should know well enough that there's nothing, _nothing,_ that I could no longer want! I'll _never_ stop wanting you, or your love, or our life together here, or the promise of the future... But none of that changes the fact that I am hurt right now, and I am angry."

He nodded slowly. She spat the words out rather forcefully. But the fact remained that she still loved him and wanted him. And that gave him some hope. Something to work with. He finally got up from where he was sitting and decided he needed to try to get on with the rest of the day. Though it was already dark out by now.

"I'm going to look at her case tonight. I'll try to solve it, and solve it quickly. I'll deal with it, and it wont be a problem again... Promise."

Molly shook her head looking exhausted. "Sherlock, she probably doesn't even need you to take this case. She's still in love with you. To some extent at least. It's screamingly obvious. The woman could barely take her eyes off you once you were in the room! I don't trust her. She wants you, and I don't trust her." She looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"You mean you don't trust me," he said somberly.

"I- I don't know..."

Sherlock looked down at her one more time before exiting the room.

He heard her remaking the bed soon after, as he sat at his laptop going over the pictures and letters and emails in the file Irene had given him. It was incredibly simple, he had to admit. He could already track down who this man was. A minor government official that wasn't happy at the prospect of Miss Adler's return to London. He would probably be easily taken care of. Either bought off or reasoned with. But Sherlock hesitated to believe that Molly was correct in her estimation of Irene's continued feelings. He found it unlikely... He hoped it was unlikely.

That night, Sherlock went upstairs to sleep on the spare bed in his lab. And it was the first time since their living together, that he did it because he knew he wasn't welcome in his own bed... And he didn't sleep much all night.

* * *

Sherlock pressed the obnoxiously loud bell at the front door of Mycroft's small continent that he called a house, and he rolled his eyes as it played a short bit of "God Save the Queen."

Finally a door man came and escorted Sherlock into a sitting room where he waited patiently to see his brother. Though he wished he didn't have to see him first before taking care of the business that brought him here.

"Ah, Sherlock," Mycroft's voice echoed in the grand room as he entered and took a seat across from his younger brother. "Come to see the prisoner I assume?"

"Don't tell me you have her chained up somewhere," he smirked.

"I wouldn't dream of it... she may enjoy that too much. No, she is in the West wing guest quarters. But she is heavily guarded. I'm not exactly taking any chances this time. In fact it's against my better judgment to allow you to even see her... Especially since she came back for you."

Sherlock made a scoffing noise and rolled his eyes.

"I wonder, Sherlock," Mycroft continued. "how Miss Hooper feels about all of this."

"Don't lecture me brother!" Sherlock bit back. "I apologize for tricking you into believing her to be dead, but I will not discuss Molly with you!"

"I don't believe you need to. I think I just gathered about all the information I would need to make my own deductions... Don't be stupid, Sherlock," Mycroft said, dropping his voice. "This woman tends to destroy things. Don't let the life that you have now be one of the casualties."

"I think I'm perfectly capable of handling myself... Now, take me to her."

Mycroft sighed, and called a man who was standing outside the doorway. He instructed the man to take Sherlock upstairs to where Miss Adler was being kept.

The man knocked twice and then unlocked the door, opening it for Sherlock. He was practically shoved inside, and then he heard the door lock again as it closed behind him. Mycroft _certainly_ wasn't taking any chances.

He strolled over to the window in the sitting room he was now stuck in, and he peered down at the gardens outside. The he heard her voice as she came in from an adjoining room, perhaps a bedroom.

"Mr. Holmes, you are indeed a man of your word. I should expect nothing less, I suppose," she smiled.

She looked similar to the last time he'd been with her in this very house. The night she'd lost. She wore a fitted black dress, probably something from Anthea's collection. But her hair, unlike the last night here, was down. She didn't have the benefit of a helper to primp her the way she usually did in the past.

"Miss Adler, I have done as you asked. I went through the threats in this file. It was, rather cut and dry in my estimation," he said, taking a seat in an arm chair and setting the file down on the table in front of him.

"Was it?" she asked in what he thought may be mock ignorance. "I was so perplexed... Tea? They were kind enough to send some up a while ago. Always the British gentleman, your brother. Even if he does wish I was mostly decomposed in some unmarked grave in Pakistan."

Irene began pouring tea for both of them, and Sherlock watched her evenly.

"I hope you don't think I'm planning to return to my former business," she went on. "Well, not immediately, at least. I can't exactly run a website and live in a lovely home as I did before. But I'm going to stay here. And I'm going to slowly work my way back into the good graces of the city... You know how that is, don't you, Mr. Holmes?" She smiled knowingly as she passed him his tea.

"You have a bad habit of making the wrong kind of friends, Miss Adler. And that will not redeem you in the eyes of the city."

"Noted... I plan to make _wise_ friends this time around. I'm a business woman, and of course that means I'll use people and information. Use them to benefit myself. But that doesn't mean I'll need any criminal involvement."

" _You_ are a criminal," Sherlock reminded her flatly.

"Yes, I suppose I was... But that's all in the past. Can't a girl start over?" She rather seductively sipped her tea.

"I'd say that remains to be seen." Sherlock paused as she stared back at him silently. He drew a breath and opened the file taking out the notes he'd made and handing them to her as he began to rattle off what he knew.

"This is clearly the man who's been threatening you. It wasn't hard to track him down using the internet, and some of my homeless network. Not such a large threat if this is the worst you have to deal with in your return to the city. I'm not sure if you still have any 'friends' left, but he could be easily persuaded to leave you alone. Especially if you were to offer him some sort of compensation. He's not doing so well in politics at the moment, and could certainly use some funding... This is all I can personally offer you. I won't be able to do anything else to discourage the threats, in case you were hoping for that." He settled back in his chair again.

"Impressive as always, Mr. Holmes. You certainly haven't lost your touch." She leaned forward, while staring at him.

"Are we... done here?" Sherlock asked then, looking around in question.

"I certainly hope not... It's been too long, don't you think? Haven't you even wondered how I was all that time?"

"It crossed my mind some time ago. But not recently."

"Ah yes, you would have been too busy with the sweet pathologist by then, wouldn't you? I must say, I have a hard time imagining that she's your type," she said pointedly as she slowly crossed one long leg over her other knee.

"Don't flatter yourself," Sherlock answered blatantly.

Irene let out a slow laugh. "I don't have to flatter myself. It's just simple facts. I know what I did to you years ago, and I have a very hard time believing that she has the same sort of effect."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You have no idea what sort of effect she has on me."

"Mm, sadly you're right. I'd love to know though," she purred. "Why don't you tell me all about it."

"I'm not telling you anything of the sort."

"Oh come on Mr. Holmes, she can't possibly be all you need. A man like you, you must need a bit more of a challenge than that." Irene got up from her seat and began strolling around the room slowly. "I know what it's like to be different. To need so much more than other people. I know you have high expectations when it comes to your work, so why not your personal life as well. Oh, I'm not asking for the same things that Dr. Hooper would be of course. I'm not built like that."

Then she made her way back over to the chair Sherlock was seated in and she placed a hand on each arm rest and leaned in, so that her face was only inches away from his.

"Care to check my pulse detective? Or my eyes perhaps?" she whispered. "I may not be a traditional woman, but you're not exactly a traditional man are you? We don't need traditional, you and I. But I'd venture to say I know what you do need. Because we're alike. We make sense Mr. Holmes, you and I. And I think if you're honest with yourself you will admit... we deserve each other." She took her time, drawing out those last words.

Sherlock stared back at her for a moment, thinking about this statement. And suddenly it dawned on him... His mouth crept up a bit in a smile, and Irene began smiling too as she saw this. But before she could close the distance between them anymore, Sherlock got up and pushed past her to take his own walk around the room.

"You have an impressive mind, Miss Adler. I've always known this about you. But what you've just said, may have been one of the most insightful things that I've ever heard come out of your mouth."

"Now you are flattering me, Mr. Holmes," she answered as she watched him move over toward the window.

"You may see it however you like... You are quite correct though, we do indeed deserve each other." He turned to cross the room again and stopped a few feet away from her, facing her as she smiled haughtily back at him. Then he went on, dropping his voice lower.

"And I cannot think of a better reason why we could _never_ be together."

Irene's face fell and she then looked back at him in some confusion as he began to move around the room again.

"You see, you are also right in that we are so very alike. We are both naturally selfish, unfeeling, insensitive people who cannot comprehend some of the most basic things that other human beings can. Things that make them good and decent by society's standards."

Irene took a heavy seat on the couch as he went on. She was no longer so eager to be close to him as he spoke.

"I do not, on the other hand, deserve the love and devotion of Molly Hooper. I am well aware of this. I always have been. Long before I returned those feelings... But I have her love and devotion all the same. And by some great miracle, I make her happy. Me. As the man that I am. I'm fairly certain that I'll never truly deserve her love. I can't foresee a time when that would be the case. But I can continue to try... And that, Miss Adler, is the closest I will ever get to being called a _good_ man. That is what Molly Hooper makes me. And she is _everything_ that I need."

He turned to look at her from where he stood. Her piercing eyes met his own, but then she looked away in a rare moment of vulnerable emotion, down at her hands in her lap. "I suppose I should be grateful. At least this time, your words don't come with a side of death sentence."

Sherlock, even in the midst of his desire to squash Irene's hope of pursuing him, could see that he'd hurt her. And that hadn't exactly been his intention. It proved the point he'd just made, in his mind all over again. He thought of Molly. And he thought that even in these circumstances, she wouldn't approve of intentional cruelty to this woman.

"Think of what we would do to each other, Miss Adler," he said in a softer tone. "We would bring out the very worst the other person has to offer. We could never trust each other, and I believe we would ultimately destroy each other. And I think if _you_ are honest with yourself, you would admit that that's the truth."

She stared back at him, and soon her mouth turned up in a small rueful smile. "But you don't _want_ me anyway, do you?"

Sherlock shook his head slowly.

"Well, then..." and she stood up from her seat. "I suppose we are done here... Don't worry about me though. I'm a big girl. I certainly didn't come back to London just for you. I wanted my life back, and I still intend to get it back. And by chance, I may see you from time to time."

"I wish you all the best, Miss Adler. And perhaps one day you will understand exactly what I mean... Perhaps you will be privileged enough to receive the love of a person that you do not deserve. Someone far better than me," he smiled genuinely at her, and then turned to take his leave.

Irene Adler watched him go and said quietly to herself. "Goodbye Mr. Holmes."

* * *

The next few days at 221B Baker Street were a bit unsteady. Molly had seen Sherlock when he'd come back from visiting Irene at Mycroft's home, and she'd hesitantly asked "how did that go?"

Sherlock told her that it was fine. He'd given Irene the information she needed about the threats she'd been getting. And he also told Molly that he'd made sure she understood that he was in no way interested in any romantic advances. Molly had made a little huffing noise at that.

"What?" Sherlock questioned in some indignation. "I did. She completely understands. She will respect our relationship from now on, I assure you."

"She's not the kind of woman that respects boundaries. I have a hard time believing she wouldn't try again if given the chance."

"I was very clear Molly, there's nothing to trouble yourself about," he said in a half comforting, half exasperated tone. And then he placed a kiss on the top of her head.

Molly tried to believe Sherlock. She did. But she didn't trust that woman. What could Sherlock have said or done to completely eliminate the possibility of Irene Adler's desire to pursue him? She imagined it would take quite a lot.

Molly was a little surprised to receive a call on her mobile from Mycroft Holmes that Saturday as she relaxed in her pajamas and watched some telly.

"Mycroft? Is something wrong?"

"Hello Miss Hooper. No, not to my knowledge at least... Is Sherlock at home?"

"He's with John, on a case. Probably wont be back till tonight. Why?"

"I though perhaps you would be the best person to pose this question to... Have there been any Irene Adler related incidents in this past few days?"

"Oh, um, well not to my knowledge. Certainly not here."

She was pretty sure she heard Mycroft breath a sigh of relief. "Excellent... I haven't been monitoring 221B for some time now, so I had to have verbal confirmation."

"You used to monitor things here?"

"I did... That is, before Sherlock began living there with a woman," Mycroft answered and cleared his throat. "I care about my brother's well being, but there's only so much one wants to know. What is it people say? Ah yes, T.M.I."

Molly snorted out a laugh and was glad that her red face wasn't visible over the phone.

"Well, thanks for checking Mycroft... I just wish I could be sure she wasn't going to come back one day. For him, I mean. Especially since she's staying in London now."

"Yes, regrettably she is... Though I wouldn't worry. Sherlock made it unmistakably clear to her that any advances would be unwelcome."

"Oh. Yes, well he said as much to me, but he didn't tell me everything. Did he tell you?"

Mycroft chuckled a little. "My dear, I may not monitor Sherlock's living space anymore, but I'll never stop monitoring my own. Do you think there's anything that goes on in my own home that I don't see and hear for myself?"

"Ah, I see."

There was a pause, and Mycroft considered this. Typical of Sherlock, he didn't really realize what was needed to truly calm his girlfriend. He assumed that assuring her of his having 'taken care of it' was enough. But a woman needed more. A woman needed details. Lots and lots of details. Mycroft certainly hated to think of doing his brother a favor in this instance, when he'd dug his own grave. But he had nothing against Miss Hooper, and it did please him to think that his brother (and the logical possibility this meant for himself) could enjoy a lifetime of happiness with a sweet, kind, lovely, and rather normal woman...

"Miss Hooper?"

"Hmm?"

"I wonder... would you like to know _exactly_ what I know?"

* * *

Sherlock came into the flat late that night. It was almost one in the morning. The case had taken longer than expected, and he assumed that Molly would be asleep. He was surprised that he saw lights on when he went in. And there was Molly sitting up on the couch. He barely had time to take his coat off, and didn't even manage to get it on the coat rack, when she ran over and threw her arms around his neck.

Sherlock took a split second to register this, seeing as it had been a few days since Molly had shown him much affection. But then he felt her. Really felt her clinging to him and pressing her face into the curve of his neck, and then he reacted in kind. He locked his own arms around her body and pressed kisses onto her neck, since it was the only skin within the reach of his lips. Molly pulled her head up then, offering him something else to kiss as she met his mouth with her own. Sherlock actually stumbled backward, and his back hit the door as they continued the heated kiss.

After a minute or so, Sherlock placed his hands on the sides of Molly's face, easing it away from his. He drew heavy breaths as he looked down at her in question.

"You're- you're not angry at me anymore?"

Molly shook her head as she smiled back at him. "No. No, I'm not angry. And I forgive you, and I love you, and I trust you completely... I just love you so much." She dove back into passionately kissing him.

He wasted no more time asking questions. Another moment of that kiss and he hoisted her up, legs around his waist, and went straight down the hall to their bedroom. The door slammed shut behind them.

Toby didn't mind that they'd shut him out in this instance. He'd actually been eagerly anticipating the day this would happen... Sherlock's deliciously tempting coat was finally up for grabs on the floor. He curled up comfortable on the wool coat, kneading it and purring first, and stayed there all night.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me everything yourself?" Molly whispered some time later in the dark of the bedroom, as she lay on her side, facing Sherlock

"Well naturally in an instance such as this, your brother comes along and produces the security footage to show your girlfriend," he joked sarcastically.

Molly laughed for a moment. "No really, if you'd told me everything, I'd have felt better right away. Not that it wasn't especially lovely to see it all play out like a scene from a show on telly."

"Honestly, I thought if I told you I'd been clear with her, that would be enough. It seemed strange to recount every word and ever detail of our conversation." he said as he ran his hand softly up and down the length of her arm. "Especially since it did involve a fair amount of shameless flirting on her part. I was pretty sure you wouldn't want to hear that."

"It was worth it, all for the sake of hearing your response." She placed a palm over his cheek. "You do deserve me, you know."

"Shut up!" he retorted playfully. "You know I don't, no need to lie simply because you're still on a chemical and hormonal high right now."

"No need to be unusually modest because you're on the same high!" she giggled and kissed his nose, making him laugh as well.

He then roughly gathered her against him again and whispered against her lips, "And I see no reason to come down from this high quite yet."

* * *

The next day, Molly had to be at work. She would normally be tired, having only gotten a few hours of sleep. But the joy of reconciling with Sherlock and feeling such a new found surge of confidence in their relationship was like the strongest caffeine she could ever consume. So she was actually having a lovely day. She hummed to herself throughout every autopsy, and smiled at random moments throughout the day as she recalled the night before. The eight hour shift went by rather quickly and easily. And she was then looking forward to getting home and being back with Sherlock again... and yes, she did want to get some sleep.

So it threw quite a bucket of cold water all over her outlook on life when she entered the women's locker room, and saw Irene Adler sitting on the bench with her perfect legs crossed.

"Hello agai, Dr. Hooper," she smiled.

Molly thought about running. She could easily turn and run from the door she'd just entered. But she wasn't completely sure it was necessary yet.

"W-what are you doing here? Here to get rid of me?" Molly asked with a hint of challenge in her voice.

Irene laughed. "Oh I think I know better than that. I've already lost what little soft spot I held in Sherlock Holmes heart, and if I were to get rid of his favorite pathologist... Well, I think I could kiss my life in London goodbye."

"So, why are you here?"

Irene didn't miss a beat, continuing on despite Molly's nerves. "I'm glad to see I didn't cause too much damage. Clearly you and Mr. Holmes have... made things right," she winked.

"W-what makes you say that?"

"I'd say the red marks on the side of your neck would be a pretty clear indication... Always knew he had it in him. Lucky woman," she smiled as she raised a knowing eyebrow.

Molly's cheeks had become inflamed, and her hand had self consciously went to her neck. She straightened up though and put on a stern face.

"I hope you didn't come here for this. I'm certainly not discussing... _that_... with you."

"I don't usually do this sort of thing. But I wanted to, shall we say, clear the air. I do, after all, want to be back in London's good graces. Sherlock Holmes is part of London. And you, now, are a part of Sherlock Holmes... Perhaps we can peacefully co-exist in the same city?"

"I- I don't know..." Molly stammered, not sure what to say now to this strange woman. This was so completely unexpected.

"I understand your hesitation. But I hope that I will eventually prove to you that I won't try to... persuade him anymore. Not that it would work anyway. You've trained him rather well. I'm impressed."

Irene stood and crossed the room, standing closer to Molly and staring her down. Not menacingly though.

"I didn't train him," Molly said in her small but firm voice. "He loves me."

Irene gave her another small smile. "I know. And as I said... I'm impressed."

The two of them looked at each other for a moment, and finally Irene moved forward toward the door. Molly stepped to the side, but spoke before Irene opened the door.

"Fine... Peacefully co-exist. I can manage that... As long as you never set foot in out bedroom again. Clear?"

Irene gave her a sly grin. "Unless of course you'd like to invite me."

Molly responded with a warning glare.

"Right," Irene conceded. "Kidding."

Then she opened the door to leave. "Much appreciated, Dr. Hooper. It's always possible we'll end up seeing each other again. And I like knowing who I can and can't trust."

"So do I," Molly said pointedly.

"Understood," Irene answered with a small nod, and then out she went, her heels clicking down the hall as she got further away.

Molly stood there in some shock for a few moments before she was able to collect her own things and make her way out of that locker room. There was no denying it now. Irene Adler was officially back in the city. And Molly was unsure of whether or not she could ever fully trust the woman. But there was one thing she was sure of, and it was really the only thing that mattered...

She absolutely and completely, trusted Sherlock Holmes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! There it is! The balance of trust has been restored. Hope you liked it. I thoroughly enjoyed bringing the drama back a bit. I really enjoyed writing Irene too, she's fun. I love to hate her haha! But she does have her good qualities, and who knows? Maybe she will pop up in future chapters some day.


	14. Deducing The Unexpected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Finally! I know some of you waited a very long time for me to get back to updating this fic, and I am sorry about that. You can blame I Told You So, and then Benefits of Boredom. :) But anyway, I'm finally trying to fill some of the prompts for this one. This is one that was requested by (fanfic names) Missfantasyland, QueenNaberrie, and others as well. I'm sure you'll figure out where I'm going with this one. Enjoy! :)

"I'm not sure they're over it yet," Molly said as she poured Sherlock some coffee.

"Who?"

"My mother and sister. I don't even know if I am. It seems so strange!"

"I can't imagine what's so strange. Nothing is really any different." Sherlock walked over and took the coffee from her, hearing the little clink of his ring on the mug handle. "It's really just the difference of a piece of paper."

"I suppose." Molly shrugged. She put away the mug that she'd gotten out for herself and decided against coffee this morning. She grabbed a muffin and took a bite out of that instead. "But it's forever now. It didn't have to be forever before."

Sherlock set his coffee cup down and swept her into his arms. "It _always_ had to be forever," he said firmly before pressing a kiss against her neck. "This was simply the business end of things. What if something happened to me? I don't want anyone else getting all my things."

Molly laughed as he stepped away again. "Oh so it's about your things, is it?"

"I'm not just talking about things, obviously. What about my flat and money? I'd want you to have it."

"Well, I'm sure I'd be fine. I've always provided for myself in my adult life. It's not as if I've begun relying on you now that we're together."

"I didn't say you _need_ it. I merely said I would _want_ you to have it."

Molly gave his cheek a pat as she passed by. "Isn't my husband such a sentimental fool."

Sherlock groaned. "Never mind, I'm changing my will. You get nothing," he teased.

It had been a few weeks ago as they were lying in bed late at night and Sherlock was running his fingers through Molly's silky hair. That was when he brought it up...out of the blue!

_"Lestrade will be off next week for a few days," Sherlock murmured._

_"Mm, I know. That's because Becky is coming to visit him again."_

_"Do you think your mother would want to come for a visit as well?"_

_Molly twisted her head around to look at him. "Um, I dunno. I suppose I could ask her. I'm surprised to hear you suggest that though. I mean, why should we ask my mother to visit? Not that I mind."_

_She felt him shrug his shoulders. "Oh, it just seemed an opportune time. The few days that Lestrade has off will mean I'll likely be devoid of any larger cases as well. I could take a bit of time off...probably a good time to get married."_

_Molly would have choked had she been eating or drinking anything at that moment. In a flash, she sat up, wrapping the sheet around her, switched the light on, and stared at Sherlock wide eyed._

_Sherlock shielded his eyes and winced. "Ah, Molly, the light!"_

_"Sherlock...what did you just say?" she demanded, ignoring the complaint._

_"It just seemed a convenient time, that's all. If your family is here and I take a few days off, what more is needed? John and Mary would surely be free for a small ceremony and a meal." He continued shielding his eyes._

_Molly kept staring at him in shock. "You- you really want to marry me?"_

_"It makes sense, Molly! I never want to be with anyone else. That can hardly come as a surprise."_

_"I, um, I just hadn't heard you say it straight out like that before. The part about marriage I mean. You know I want to marry you of course, and I'm incredibly happy! I suppose I'm just trying to ignore the fact that this is an incredibly unromantic proposal," she said, but was beginning to smile._

_"Molly, can you please shut the light off?! This would become marginally more romantic if I could actually open my eyes and look at you!"_

_"Oh! Sorry!" She switched the light back off and Sherlock sat up next to her._

_He immediately leaned in and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. When he pulled back a bit, he whispered, "Would it help at all if I told you that I have a ring?"_

_Molly laughed and began to feel reality setting, making tears spring to her eyes. "It helps," she said as she grasped his face gently. "Not that it matters. I'd marry you tomorrow, ring or not."_

_"Would it also help if I tell you that I love you...more than anyone else in the world?" His voice rumbled through her as he spoke the words against her lips._

_"That helps even more," she whispered back._

"I've got to meet Lestrade in a few minutes. There have been some burglaries." Sherlock slipped his suit jacket on. "I'll text you later, all right?"

"Ok." Molly accepted his little kiss on the cheek as he swept out the door with his coat over his arm.

She strolled back over to the kitchen, taking his partially drunk coffee and dumping the rest in the sink. As she stood there by the sink, a sudden wave swept through her. It was not a pleasant wave either. She felt like...

Molly had to set the mug down and literally run to the loo in order to make it in time to be sick in the toilet. She sat there for a moment, breathing heavily and holding her palm against her forehead, after the little that was in her stomach had come right back out. After a minute or two she sat with her back against the wall in the loo and closed her eyes, feeling a bit better. _That was odd._

She got up slowly, wondering if she should call in sick to Bart's. She felt fine now though, and figured she might just be having some indigestion. Besides, she often didn't feel great just before her...

Molly paused as she stood in the hallway. It was right before her time of the month, wasn't it? It should be here in...She tried to remember how many days till it would likely arrive. But the more she tried to figure it out, it made little sense. She ran and got her mobile, looking at the calendar where she always made a note of the previous date. When she checked, she saw it was...40 days ago.

She set her mobile down with a thud on the table. "Oh God," she said aloud. She ran her hands through her hair and started to feel panic welling up inside her...or was she about to be sick again? No...No that was panic. She picked her mobile up again and wondered who to call first. She thought about calling Sherlock and telling him to come right back. But that elicited a whole other wave of panic.

They had just gotten married a few weeks ago! This was not what they'd planned. He'd never said he would want children. Molly had even told him that she wasn't sure if and when she would want to be a mum. She had continued to feel like she had reached the very peak of how much to expect from her relationship with Sherlock Holmes. He married her! That alone was unbelievable. But try as she might, she could not imagine him getting excited about an unexpected pregnancy.

She started to feel a lump in her throat and tears fill her eyes. Did she believe Sherlock would suddenly reject her and want nothing to do with her or their child? No. But she was afraid he would feel weighted with a responsibility that he didn't genuinely want. The idea that the man she loves, her husband, would be anything less than thrilled...was a lot to take in.

Molly called Bart's and told them she couldn't come in due to illness. After she hung up, she called the Watson's house.

"Hi Molly," Mary answered the phone cheerfully.

"Mary, hi. Um, is John there?"

"Sure, I'll get him. Is everything all right?"

"I uh...yeah, it'll be fine. Actually, do you think I could drop by this morning? Would that be too much of a bother?"

"No, of course not! You sure you're ok?" Mary pressed.

"Yeah, I'm ok, thanks. I'll see you in a bit." Molly tried her best to smile.

* * *

About a half hour later, Molly arrived at the Watson's flat and was warmly received. Mary sat her down and offered her some tea.

"I don't know if I should eat anything right now. I'm not feeling so well."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mary rubbed Molly's arm. "Where's Sherlock? You should make him take care of you."

"Well, I sort of wanted to talk to John first."

John came in the room holding Lizzie. "Hey, Molly. Sorry, I was just changing the slave driver here." He handed the baby to Mary. "Everything ok? You look upset."

Molly started to feel emotional again. It was a frustrating thing, the way someone else pointing out your emotions could immediately heighten them.

Mary and John exchanged a worried look as they saw Molly's face get pink and her lip start to quiver.

"Molly," John said more firmly. "You're scaring us. What's going on?"

She sniffed and took a shaky breath. "Sorry, I don't mean to upset you. It's just...I think I'm pregnant!" she sobbed out.

Mary and John's faces broke out in grins despite the emotional wreck of a friend sitting before them.

"Molly! That's wonderful!" Mary cooed gently as she took her hand.

John suddenly looked concerned again. "Wait, Molly, did you tell Sherlock? Because if that git said anything to you upset you-" he began, raising his voice.

"No! No! He doesn't know. But I'm so worried about telling him. I- I don't think he wants children. What if he regrets ever being with me, or marrying me?"

"Molly!" Mary laughed. "He would never feel that way! He's crazy about you, and that includes whatever you may have growing inside you. I know it!"

Molly shook her head. "I know he'd never leave me, but he might start to resent me. This will completely change his life!"

"His life already changed when you came into it, and he dealt with that. He'll do the same with this, and he'll end up being happier than he was before. At worst, maybe it'll take him a while to come around, but I know he will," John assured her. "Besides, how sure are you? What are your symptoms? Have you taken a test?"

She sniffed and rubbed her nose. "Well, I was sick this morning, and that's what got me thinking about what time of the month it was. When I checked, it's been well over a week since it should have come. That's not typical for me. And my um...breasts are larger and very sore. I just thought I was premenstrual. Like I said, it was being sick that made me think maybe it's more than that."

"Well, that's not all an absolute guarantee, even if it is unusual for you. You should tell Sherlock and-"

"No," Molly cut in. "I don't want to turn his world upside down till I know for sure!"

Mary chuckled. "Come on, Molly, it'll be fine!"

Molly looked intensely at both of them suddenly. "No! I mean it. I don't want to tell him till I'm sure. And I do not want either of you telling him! You have to promise!"

Mary and John looked disappointed, but they nodded at Molly.

"All right, Molly, we promise," Mary agreed. "But please, tell him as soon as possible! I think I'll explode if I have to keep this in too long."

Molly took a deep breath and nodded. "I'll try. Well...I think I feel a bit better. I suppose I'll stop by the store and pick up a-"

"Oh! I'll give you a test!" Mary jumped up and ran into the loo.

John's eye's doubled in size and he did a double take. "Why exactly do you have pregnancy tests?" he called after her. "Lizzie is only ten months old!"

Mary came bounding back into the room grinning humorously. "Well, I might have had a bit of a fright last month and bought a bunch of tests. But seeing as the first one I took came back negative, I just kept the other two."

"Oh, good Lord," John murmured running his hands over his face as little Lizzie pulled herself up to stand while holding onto his knees.

"Here you go, Molly," Mary said with a wink as she gave her the box with an unholy amount of bright pink on it.

"This box almost makes me ill," Molly said with a sour look on her face.

"Oh, lovey, have you eaten anything today?" Mary asked, placing a hand on her back.

"I think that's what made me sick. I tried eating some muffin earlier, but that came right back up," she answered, looking defeated.

"Oh you definitely need to eat. An empty stomach is awful if you're pregnant! You need something really plain though. I've got some crackers, you can take those."

* * *

A few minutes later, Molly was in the cab munching on the very bland crackers, staring at the bright pink box sticking out of the top of her bag. She had to admit though; the plain crackers were doing wonders for her stomach. Her phone chimed and her fears were confirmed when she looked at the message. She'd been afraid this would happen.

WHERE ARE YOU? I JUST WENT TO BART'S AND THEY SAID YOU CALLED IN SICK. YOU WEREN'T SICK THIS MORNING. AND WHY AREN'T YOU AT BAKER STREET IF YOU'RE SICK? I'VE ALREADY CHECKED WITH MRS. HUDSON AND YOU AREN'T THERE. THE WATSONS SAID YOU WEREN'T WITH THEM EITHER...WHERE ARE YOU? -SH

Molly sighed to herself as she thought for a second before typing a reply.

HAD TO RUN OUT AND GET SOMETHING BECAUSE I WASN'T FEELING WELL. HEADING BACK TO BAKER STREET NOW. -MH

She hoped he would leave it there. She needed some hours of quite time by herself. Or maybe just five minutes! But he sent her another text.

THE CASE WAS BARELY A FOUR. I'LL COME HOME. -SH

NO, THAT'S FINE. NO NEED TO RUSH. I'M NOT THAT SICK. I'M ACTUALLY FEELING BETTER NOW. :) -MH

She tried to push him off a bit; though she also didn't want him to get the impression she was pushing him off. She groaned to herself, thinking that this couldn't be any more difficult given who her husband was!

To her surprise, she didn't get another response. She figured he got busy with something.

Molly happily arrived back at Baker Street with her purse and crackers. She continued crunching as she climbed the steps and got inside. Sure enough, the flat was empty. She put her things down and went to the bedroom. She quickly changed out of her slacks and jumper, putting pajamas back on and slipping one of Sherlock's dressing gowns on as well. She lingered in front of the mirror in the wardrobe and momentarily pulled the fabric of the dressing gown directly out from her belly, imagining how she could look in some months if...

She shook her head and walked out of the bedroom. What if she was being silly? It always possible this was completely all in her head. As John said, nothing she had experienced was an absolute guarantee. All she had to do was take the test.

Molly paced a bit more before actually making her way to get the test from her bag. She took a deep breath and began opening the box as she made her way to the loo. Thankfully, she needed to pee anyway.

Unfortunately, just as she was finishing up and had place the frightening plastic stick on the sink, she heard the door open.

"Molly?" Sherlock called.

She swore under her breath and then called back, "Oh hi! I'll be right out!" As she had the benefit of the masking noise of flushing and water running, she tried to take the wrapping and pink box and stuff the in the cabinet under the sink. As soon as he left, she could always move them if need be. She glanced at her watch and knew she had less than two minutes before this was all over and done with anyway. At that point maybe it wouldn't matter anymore.

Molly finally emerged from the loo, smiling brightly as she walked into the kitchen where he stood putting the kettle on. Sherlock suddenly halted and looked her up and down in a rather predatory was as he crossed the room to her.

"So, I'm feeling better," she said casually.

"I can see that," he murmured. "You hardly look ill. I would say you look... _delicious._ I think I'm glad I decided to come home." He snaked his arms around her and pulled her tight against him as he began kissing her.

This was the absolute last thing on Molly's mind right now. In fact, it wasn't even comfortable. She pulled away and winced ever so slightly, which Sherlock noticed. In the split second she stepped back, he noticed her hand reach up to tug at the side of her bra and roll her shoulders with a look of discomfort on her face.

"Well, when I said I feel better, I don't think I meant _that_ much better," she said with a nervous laugh as she continued the task with the kettle that he'd abandoned.

"Oh," he answered quietly, narrowing his eyes a little as he watched her. "Sorry, you just looked..." He was searching for the word, but the only one he could come up with was glowing, so he let the sentence fall away unfinished.

Unbeknownst to him, Molly checked her watch again, seeing there was a minute left. She had put the cap back on the test stick and put the stick in her pocket. When the time was up, all she would have to do is glance in her pocket.

As she puttered around the kitchen, Sherlock continued to frown to himself. Something wasn't right here. He was missing something. _Molly not feeling well...calling in from work...leaving the flat to get something..._ He glanced at her bag and sat the half eaten sleeve of crackers. _Molly never eats plain crackers...I've seen that kind before...she winced when I hugged her and adjusted her bra...breast tenderness...also rather adverse to the idea of physical affection in general...all those could be signs of impending menstruation._

"Sherlock, I think I'm going to make some of that lemon ginger tea. You probably want you regular though, right?"

He nodded, wearing a slightly blank expression.

As Molly turned back to the kettle, she glanced at her watch again. _Oh, dear God, it's time to check. Here goes nothing..._

Sherlock looked at the crackers again. He bent down toward her bag and covertly sniffed. He recognized that smell. It was...the Watson's home. That's where he had recognized those crackers! He'd seen Mary with them before. But if she hadn't felt well, gone to the Watson's, and left with crackers...and both Molly and the Watson's hadn't volunteered the information that they'd seen each other that morning...

His mind jumped back to timing. He began doing the mental calculations, and he very quickly realized that this was not _impending_ menstruation...it was _late._

Mollyturned around and brought the mugs over with shaky hands. And she was surprised to find her husband's expression very largely changed since the last minute she'd looked at him. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung slightly opened. It made her no less nervous to say what she needed to.

"Um, Sherlock," she began as she slid his tea over to him. "There's something I have to tell you. I know that this is a bit unexpected, and I didn't want to worry you unless I was sure, so I...well, I should just come out with it."

Sherlock still just stood there gaping at her. She took a breath and blew it out slowly.

"I'm pregnant."

"You're pregnant."

The words were spoken in unison, and then both of them were gaping at each other. After a moment of stunned silence, Molly found her voice again.

"Oh, for God's sake, Sherlock! I can't tell you anything!" she said with a little flail of her hands.

He finally blinked and cleared his throat. "I...I...couldn't help it."

Molly snorted out a laugh. "I really should have known. Why even bother to take a test? I should have just stood in front of you and let you deduce away! Though, if you'd like to see the proof that you're right..." She dug into the pocket of the dressing gown, pulled out the test and set it on the table in front of him.

Sherlock peered down at the pink stick and saw the two lines so clearly visible in the small window. He looked at his wife's waiting face staring at him. He looked back at the stick...then back at her.

Molly's expression fell a little. "Look, I know you're not thrilled. I can't exactly say I was either. I know this isn't what we decided on. I'm not sure you ever would have decided on this. I just...I thought you should know."

Sherlock continued looking at her with an infuriatingly unreadable expression on his face. Molly started to feel choked up and wanted nothing more than to avoid breaking down in front of him. If he couldn't deal with this, she didn't have the strength to hear him say it. Best to retreat and let him process this however he had to.

Molly began to walk past him, but she immediately felt his fingers close around her wrist. She turned again and looked up into his eyes.

"A baby?" he said very softly.

Molly nodded, watching his face tentatively. "A baby."

"Our...baby," he said slowly.

Molly started to smile very slightly as she saw the light getting a bit brighter in his eyes. "That's right, Sherlock...our baby."

He reached up and cupped her cheek, running his thumb over the smooth skin. "Can I kiss you? Because I _really_ want to kiss you right now."

Molly's mouth erupted in a full smile. "Yes, please kiss me!"

He grasped her face and leaned down to press a lingering kiss to her lips once, twice, then finally pulling away to look into her eyes again.

"I can't believe this," he said in astonishment, but there wasn't a hint of disappointment.

"I know," she giggled and chewed her lip for a second. "I suppose we should have been more careful after the wedding."

Sherlock shook his head as he rand fingers through her hair. "No. I wouldn't take it back. Now that it's happened...I would never change anything."

"This all happened so fast. I woke up this morning thinking it would be a normal day!" She laughed again.

"I take it the Watsons know?" he asked with raised brow.

Molly blushed and nodded. "I may have...panicked a bit. I went there after you left for the case. I made them promise not to say anything. I got the test from Mary; she had extras. I'm sure they'll be glad to know they don't have to keep a secret like this anymore."

Sherlock smirked and took out his mobile. He sent off a text to Mary.

YOU'RE ALLOWED TO START SCREAMING WITH EXCITEMENT NOW... -SH

Only moments later he got a reply.

AAAAAAAHHHHHHH! -MW

OH THANK GOD SHE TOLD YOU ALREADY! -MW

ACTUALLY I FIGURED IT OUT RIGHT BEFORE SHE TOLD ME. -SH

AS LONG AS YOU DIDN'T FIGURE IT OUT BEFORE SHE DID! WE CAN'T ALL BE SO LUCKY! -MW

Then he got a text from John.

CONGRATS MATE! I CAN'T WAIT TO WATCH THIS WHOLE THING PLAY OUT. IT'LL BE LIKE GOING TO AN INCREDIBLY ENTERTAINING FILM! -JW

YOU MEAN A FILM ABOUT THE MOST BRILLIANT FATHER IN THE WORLD? -SH

Molly got her own text.

THIS IS GOING TO BE AWFULLY INTERESTING. ;) LOTS OF LOVE, AND GET SOME REST. TELL ME IF YOU NEED ANYTHING. I'LL GIVE YOU MY DOCTOR'S NAME TOO, IF YOU'D LIKE. -MW

I'D LIKE THAT, THANKS. I'M ALREADY DREADING GOING WITH SHERLOCK THOUGH. GOD HELP THAT DOCTOR! -MH

WHY DO YOU THINK I OFFERED? THIS DR HAPPENS TO BE A VERY PATIENT MAN. ;) -MW

PERFECT! -MH

Molly and Sherlock set their phones down and smiled at each other.

"Well...what next?" Molly asked with a shrug and a much more excited gleam in her eyes.

Sherlock took a deep breath. "I suppose we try to get you an appointment soon. Other than that, we can just...start to process this."

Molly laughed. "If you need to retreat into your mind palace and create a whole new room, I'll understand."

Just then Sherlock got another text. He looked at it and groaned. "Well obviously Mycroft is doing his part in keeping a close eye on you. He is already well aware that you left the Watson's flat with a pregnancy test! Were you waving it around to call a cab?"

"No! It might have been sticking out of my bag just a tiny bit though." She laughed again as she looked at the text Sherlock had received. "Oh my! Well it looks like there is one more thing we have to do."

IT SEEMS YOU AND THE NEW MRS. HOLMES MAY HAVE SOME NEWS TO SHARE. YOU'D BETTER CALL MUMMY. IF YOU DON'T...I WILL. -MH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might do more someday with a pregnant Molly or them having the baby, but I'm not sure when. At this point I'd say the prompts for this fic are closed. I still have three more in line, and then I have a couple other one shot prompts to work on. Trying not to let things get out of control haha! I'd love to hear what you think though. Thanks for reading! ;)


	15. The Science of Abduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday, people! Here's another prompt that I'm finally filling for this fic. I feel awful that it's taken me this long! The idea for this chapter was originally from A Slytherin's wife. There's also a particular part of this chapter that was requested by SammyKatz. I hope both of them, and the rest of you, enjoy this one. ;)

"Bored." Sherlock sighed from his leather chair.

Molly stuck her head around the corner, peering into the living room. "Sorry, what?"

"Bored!" he said louder as he pouted back at her.

Molly rolled her eyes and went back to packing up some snacks for her day at Bart's. She moved about the kitchen getting things into baggies and containers. She felt it was best not to engage in the pity party he was currently throwing himself. Said party had been going on for a couple of days now, and there was only so much genuine sympathy she could muster.

Sherlock's eyes drifted over to where she was and how she was moving to and fro kitchen. The corner of his lips twitched upward and he got up from his chair to saunter over to where she was.

As Molly turned from the sink, she jumped a little when she found Sherlock suddenly standing very much in her personal space.

He looked down at her with an unmistakable fire in his eyes as he slid hands around her waist. "Bored," he purred out in his lowest voice, and his mouth descended to make contact with the side of her neck.

Molly let out some shaky giggles as the very purposefully caused shivers quickly traveled down her spine. "No no no no...no, Sherlock, I have to go to work!" she sputtered out, pressing her palms on his chest.

He pulled back and pouted at her. "But you can't leave! I have no cases today...at all! And there have been a grand total of four in the past three weeks! There was the woman with the cheating husband, the woman whose car was stolen, the man who was looking for his daughter, and the man whose employee was stealing from him. That's it! The least you can do is stay here...with me." He swept in again and initiated a passionate kiss.

Molly said a muffled no and pulled away. "Honestly, Sherlock, I can't! I'm leaving, and that's final. You'll just have to wait till I'm home later." She gave his cheek a little pat and slid out of his grasp.

"Yes but when you're home later, you'll have brought cadaver parts for me to entertain myself with!" he whined.

Molly turned again and frowned at him. "First of all, I couldn't be any more flattered that I come in a close third, after cases and cadaver parts. And second, when exactly did I agree to bring anything of the sort home for you today?"

One of his eyebrows lifted and his eyes shifted. "Hadn't I already made that request?"

"No," she answered, trying not to look amused.

"Ah." He rocked on his heels before shooting her a grin. "Well, I suppose I am asking now."

Molly sighed and shook her head as she grabbed her bag and coat. "Love you. I should be home by six. And please don't shoot anything!" she called out before shutting the door behind her.

She was pretty sure she heard even more grumbling as she left the flat, and she couldn't help but laugh to herself at the fact that she was so violently in love with a five year old grown man.

* * *

Molly looked up to see Mike Stamford enter the morgue with a smile.

"Oh hi, Mike! Sorry, I'm a bit in the middle of..." She held up her blood covered gloved hands.

"Oh it's no problem. I'll just leave this over here." He set a well wrapped bag on the empty table. "Had some...leftovers from a class this afternoon. I thought Sherlock would appreciate a little gift."

"Oh! How lovely! He'll be more grateful than you can imagine. He's been whining about boredom all week!"

"Glad I could help." Mike smiled at her. "I'll see you tomorrow, I'm off."

"Ok, have a good evening!" Molly gave him a wave and went back to her work.

As she was trying to focus on picking through this poor person's internal organs, she heard her mobile buzzing on the table next to her. She saw that Sherlock was calling, which was unusual, so she quickly pulled her gloves off.

"Hi, Sherlock," she said immediately as she put the picked up and put the phone to her ear.

The first thing Molly heard was some bumping and scuffling. It sounded like he was doing something in the background.

"Sherlock? Hello!" she sung out. She laughed a little. "Did you sit on your mobile and call me?"

That was when Molly heard other voices.

"Don't try and fight us again! You'll regret it," a man's voice said.

Then came Sherlock's voice again, but he sounded as muffled as the other voice. "What do you want with me?"

Molly's heart suddenly began to beat double time. He didn't sound right. Something wasn't right.

"Your client isn't through with you yet."

"Who? Who isn't through with me?" Sherlock demanded his words sounding labored.

"Oh you'll remember soon enough. It's only been a couple of weeks. I'm sure it'll all come back in a flash." The man chuckled.

"Say it! I want to hear who you're working for!" Sherlock pushed again, and his words were definitely slurred.

"Just search him and let's get out of here," another man's voice said.

There was more bumping and rustling sounds for a moment.

"Hey, what's this?!" the first man said. "Is this phone on?"

Molly covered her mouth and held her breath.

"The idiot called someone!"

"Just hang up! Destroy it and let's go!"

Molly heard a crash...and the line went dead.

She didn't even stand there long enough to allow any tears to fall. She took no time for that. Molly immediately took action. She threw off her lab coat and ran out of the morgue. She ran down the hall and as she hoped, ran into a coworker.

"Something's happened! There's been an emergency and I have to leave! I was in the middle of a post mortem, you need to cover for me!" She spewed the words out literally as she was running by, not even waiting to hear any sort of answer.

As Molly hailed a taxi and told them to get her to 221B Baker Street as fast as humanly possible, she called Lestrade, the Watsons, texted Mycroft, and even called Mrs. Hudson to make sure she was all right.

Mrs. Hudson met Molly at the front door, looking nervous since she'd gotten the phone call.

"I didn't notice anything, honestly! I wish I had!" the older woman said with a shaky hand pressed to her lips.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Hudson, it's not your fault. Stay down here, I'm going to check upstairs. The police will be here any minute." Without a thought, Molly began cautiously ascending the steps and listening as she did. Thought she was pretty sure there would be nothing to hear.

She was right. There was nobody in the flat. Most everything was in its place as well. Sherlock's mobile was smashed on the living room floor, but she had expected that. Sherlock's tea cup was tipped over onto the rug, but that was it. Molly looked around some more, and suddenly noticed something small on the floor almost concealed under a chair.

She took a tissue and picked it up...a hypodermic needle. And it had been used. She was willing to bet that this had been used to give Sherlock some sort of sedative. He hadn't sounded right at all.

Within ten more minutes, everyone Molly had contacted was there in that living room. Lestrade's team was busy sweeping the entire flat as the rest of them spoke in concerned voices.

"Do you think this is Moriarty?" John asked Lestrade, as he grasped Mary's hand tightly.

"I don't think it is," Molly said immediately.

"I don't know, Molly, it's a bit hard to say at this point. I'd like to think it's not, but we have to consider the possibility," Lestrade said, obviously wishing it wasn't even a chance.

"Why don't you think so, Molly?" Mary asked as she got up to bounce Lizzie around.

"Over the phone, the man said 'your client isn't through with you yet.' And Sherlock tried to get him to say who, but the man just told him that he would remember easily since it was only a couple of weeks ago. I think this was the work of some client from a couple of weeks ago."

Mary nodded and looked around at the others. "Makes sense. I'd say we should check all his recent cases."

"Wait, I already know them!" Molly squeezed her eyes shut, trying to recall Sherlock's words from that morning. "There was uh...oh! There was a woman whose car was missing, and a woman with a cheating husband...a man whose daughter was missing, and a man whose employee was embezzling funds."

"Yeah, I remember those," John agreed. "I think I worked all of those with him."

"Ok, well why don't we start tracking all of those clients down and ask if they know anything," Lestrade offered.

"No, wait!" Molly put out her hand. "That could take too long. If we just make our way through the list, we could waste our chance to find them. We need to figure out who it's most likely to be first. It can't be that difficult to figure out which of those clients would be most likely to kidnap Sherlock."

The rest of them looked around at each other.

"Well, it's not as if Sherlock is the only one who can think!" Molly asserted. "We just have to think like him."

"Well, was there any one of those clients that was upset?" Mary asked John.

"They all were." John shook his head. "They really all got bad news. The woman whose car was missing didn't get her vehicle back. It had already been sold as parts. The woman who thought her husband was cheating was right, he was. The man who was missing money from his business had an employee who was stealing from him who he had to fire. And the man whose daughter was missing found out that she had run off with one of the young men who worked for him."

"Was anyone more upset than the others?" Lestrade asked.

John looked thoughtful.

"No, we have to think like Sherlock," Molly repeated. "It's not about who acted the most upset. It's about who still wanted him for something. The man said that Sherlock's client wasn't through with him yet. If they wanted him dead they didn't have to take him anywhere. They need him for something, and likely it's his detective work."

"Maybe someone's out for revenge. The business man was furious that one of his best workers had been stealing. Maybe he wanted to get back at him and needed Sherlock to track him down," John offered.

That was when Mycroft arrived. He entered the room and stood to the side, saying nothing but immediately taking in what was being said.

Molly thought for a moment. "What about the man whose daughter ran off with one of his employees? Did Sherlock bring her back?"

John shook his head. "No. She wasn't a child, she was twenty one. Sherlock caught them on their way out of town. They wouldn't say where they were going, and Sherlock didn't care to force them to. He told the woman's father what he found out, but that was all he could do. He couldn't force a grown woman to come back to her father's house when she didn't want to. Especially when she was safe and sound!"

Molly nodded silently for a moment. "I think it's him. I think it's the father. What does Sherlock say is the most powerful motivator? Love! None of the other cases have anything to do with that."

"John, where was that client?" Lestrade asked, getting his coat back on.

"He had a cabinet shop not far from here. It was like a warehouse. I can take you there," John offered.

"I'll be along shortly with my men," Mycroft offered. "No matter who we're dealing with, it can't hurt to have extra backup."

"Mary, take a cab home with the baby. Molly, why don't you go with her?" John added.

"Absolutely not!" she answered instantly. "I am coming with you, I don't care how dangerous it is. I want to find Sherlock!"

John and Lestrade looked at each other with concern, though they knew from her tone that there was no talking her out of it now.

"If anything happens to you, I hope you know that Sherlock will gladly use us for disturbing science experiments," John said with a sigh as they all left the flat.

"Nothing is going to happen to me," Molly said with determination. "And _nothing_ is going to happen to Sherlock."

* * *

They arrived at David Coleson's warehouse on the outskirts of London, and by that time it was getting dark. There were a couple of vans parked outside though, and they could see a light on through one of the windows in the brick building.

"We're not waiting for Mycroft's men," John said, surveying the building. "They should be here soon, but I don't want to wait. I think we should go in now."

"I agree," Molly said, looking at both John and Lestrade.

Lestrade sighed slowly. "All right, we can go in. I'll go in that side door, and Molly, I want you to stay with John. You two go in that front door. Turn your mobiles to silent, and just try to find Sherlock. Don't get into any confrontations!"

The party of three split into two and headed for the entrances.

Molly and John went in quietly and she noticed how John kept his hand hovering over his gun. It made Molly feel a little better, but honestly, her only concern was for Sherlock. Maybe this man wanted Sherlock to help him track down his daughter, but what about after? What would they do with him? Or what if Sherlock simply refused? Molly could imagine all sorts of scenarios that would put Sherlock in genuine physical danger.

They came into a large room, clearly a work area since there were tools all around. There were some large wardrobes that lined one of the walls and John looked over at Molly, motioning toward them.

As they began making their way toward the wall, then heard a voice booming from behind them.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing here?!"

A large man came rushing toward them and John immediately went for his gun. Just as John began to aim the gun at him, the man had reached Molly and had his arm around her neck.

"Don't you dare!" the man warned as he glared at John. "I could snap her neck like a twig!"

Molly and John stared wide eyed at each other. John very slowly began to lower his arm to place the gun on the floor, but as he did, he noticed Molly wink at him.

Suddenly Molly swung her foot out and brought it crashing backwards against the man's knee. He groaned and tried to keep hold of her, but she felt his grasp loosen slightly. She brought her elbow back hard against the man's gut, making him completely lose his hold. She wiggled away and the second she had fully turned around, she shoved the heel of her hand into the man's nose. That completed his downfall, making him grasp his face and stumble backwards.

By this time, John had again aimed the gun at him and Molly ran over beside him.

"Get on the ground!" John yelled, and the man fell to his knees, still holding his nose.

"I think she broke my nose," he mumbled, as he looked at the blood in his hand briefly.

"I'll break more than that if you don't tell us where Sherlock Holmes is!" Molly yelled.

"I'm not getting paid enough for this," he complained.

"Tell us _now!_ " John added, moving in closer.

Just then, Lestrade came in holding a gun to another man. "He says Sherlock's in here. Open the wardrobe all the way to the right!"

Molly ran over, leaving John to watch the sniveling man with the broken nose. As she did, she heard sirens and saw lights outside the building. She didn't spare a minute to see anything more though. She pulled the metal bar out that was blocking the wardrobe handles and swung open the doors. Inside was a very groggy looking consulting detective with heavy tape over his mouth.

"Sherlock!" she cried out and grabbed at him, pulling him tight against her. She stepped back for a moment, examining his face. "Can you hear me, Sherlock?!"

When all he did was make a little grunt, she reached up and ripped the tape off his lips.

"Ow!" he cried out, opening his eyes wider and blinking furiously. "What was that for?!"

Molly laughed through some tears and began rapidly kissing his lips and face. In another few moments, some paramedics ran in along with some of Lestrade's backup. Molly stepped away and let them load Sherlock onto a gurney and get him out of the building. As they left, she saw them handcuffing another man outside.

"That's him," John said pointing. "That was the man looking for his daughter."

Lestrade came up to them. "My boys got him as he was pulling into the parking lot. Seems we got here just before he did. Thankfully we had some time since Sherlock wouldn't have been any use till he was a bit more lucid, but they definitely weren't planning to be gentle. There was ropes and knives and things in the back room where I found the other guy. It's a good thing we found him before they took him anywhere else."

There was a moment of silence and then John looked at Molly. "Molly, that was eh, just...wow. I mean, I had no idea." He shook his head and smiled at her.

"Oh well, you know." She shrugged and grinned. "It was nothing. Just doing what had to be done."

"I was impressed, really! Sherlock's really been teaching you some things huh?"

Molly bit her lip and smiled. "Oh um, actually it wasn't Sherlock. I've been...learning a few things from Mary." She gave the shocked looking John Watson a pat on the arm as she walked off to check on Sherlock.

Molly approached Sherlock who was now sitting up in the back of the ambulance. "Are you all right?" she called up to him.

Sherlock reached his hand out and she climbed up into the ambulance to sit next to him.

"If you staged all of this because you were bored, I will absolutely break your nose as well," she whispered as she leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead.

"I thought about it," he murmured with a smirk. "But they got to Baker Street before I could even plan anything!"

"I'm just glad you're ok. I was terrified you know. Try not to let yourself get kidnapped again hmm?"

Sherlock smiled at her shut his eyes for a moment, then they shot open again and he frowned. "What did you mean, break my nose _as well?_ Have you broken other noses today?"

Molly smiled brightly. "Well, just one. The man in the warehouse had me by the neck and wasn't being very cooperative. So I had to get a bit...physical."

Sherlock's eyes doubled in size. "Had you by the neck?! Molly, you could have been killed! What's the point in saving me if you get yourself killed?!"

"Relax!" Molly said with a laugh. "Mary had taught me a few things recently. I'm not completely helpless. Besides...I'd walk through fire if you were in danger."

Sherlock looked much more alert as he pushed himself to sit up more and took her face between his palms, examining her face closely. "I think I found a new reason to stay out of danger," he whispered.

"Don't make me any promises, detective," she whispered back. "You might get bored...oh! And speaking of which, I had something for you from Mike Stamford! It may not be as thrilling as getting kidnapped, but it just might keep you busy for an evening."

Sherlock gave her a half smile. "Maybe tomorrow. Right now, I just want to go home."

The paramedic came over to tell him it was time to head to the hospital, but Sherlock argued that he didn't want to go. Molly finally had to step in and explain that she would be qualified to keep an eye on him and make sure he did fine for the rest of the night. Sherlock happily signed the form saying he was refusing further treatment and hopped out of the ambulance.

Lestrade ended up offering to take them back to Baker Street, and Sherlock readily accepted. John wanted to get home to Mary and Lizzie as soon as he could, and he didn't feel like enduring the ride with another irritating officer.

As Lestrade began driving, Sherlock slid an arm around Molly's shoulder and she snuggled against him.

"By the way," he said slowly. "How did you figure out where I was so quickly?"

"Oh it wasn't too hard," Molly said casually. "I remembered the recent cases you told me about, and since I heard the man over the phone say that it was a client of your who wasn't through with you, I just had to figure who was the most likely to still want you for something. Obviously the man still wanted to find his daughter who ran off."

Sherlock turned and looked her over with wide flashing eyes. "You...deduced that?" he asked in a low rumble.

"Mmhm," she chirped with a little nod.

He suddenly swooped down, roughly capturing her mouth in a heated kiss. Molly let out a little gasp and clung to him as he kissed her, and even after he pulled away.

"Graham?" Sherlock called into the front seat. "You'll need to get us to Baker Street as quickly as possible please!"

Lestrade glanced in the rear view mirror. "Oh for God's sake! I can only drive so fast! Try not to act like a couple of teenagers!"

The poor detective inspector shook his head as he tried to drive as quickly and safely as possible. He muttered to himself as he drove...

"Somehow I doubt he would have been this impressed if I had been the one to figure out where he was...thank God."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe! Sherlock likes it when Molly's all smart and stuff. :) A Slytherin's wife had specified that Molly figures out where Sherlock is and helps rescue him. SammyKatz had specially requested that Molly kick some butt and impress everyone. This was fun, and I'm glad I finally did it! I have a couple more little prompts for this fic and hopefully they'll be coming soon. Bye bye! ;)


	16. The Best Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a prompt from OH SO long ago! Nienne The Wanderer was kind enough to send me this one, and I'm glad to have finally completed it. She had some wonderful ideas originally about Molly getting kidnapped in this one, but because I filled the other prompt in this fic about Sherlock getting kidnapped, I wanted to do something a bit different here. Hope this is ok! I think I got the general idea though, which was angst and drama surrounding Sherlock reacting to a threat against Molly. Hope everyone enjoys it! ;)

"They were stronger when Moriarty was still around. It won't be quite so difficult now," Lestrade said as he handed the file over to Sherlock. "They aren't likely to go down without a fight though."

Sherlock looked over the contents of the file and answered the DI without looking up. "I don't think there are many that do. And where would the fun be in that?"

"What's this?" Molly asked as she walked into the kitchen, overhearing the two men.

"Just an Irish mafia that's causing some trouble in London. They used to work closely with Moriarty. They may not have him anymore, but they're trying to be just as menacing." As he spoke, Sherlock walked over and casually pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"How you feeling, Molly?" Greg asked as he glanced at the now slightly visible swell of her belly.

"Pretty well actually. Four and a half months now, so I hope the worst is over. Though I suppose the end won't be a bowl of cherries either!" she said with a little giggle.

"Can't wait to meet him. Sherlock told us it's a boy." Greg grinned, looking like he was a proud uncle.

Molly beamed and gave her small tummy a pat. "Yup, a little boy. Of course I'll be terrified now. If I end up with a little Sherlock or Mycroft, I'm not sure what I'll do with myself!" She kissed the small pout that had developed on her husband's lips.

"I'm sure we'll all be terrified! I don't know who of us will be brave enough to babysit!" Greg said with a jovial laugh.

"I don't know who of you will be _worthy_ to babysit," Sherlock muttered with a small smirk.

"So, you willing to have a look at the witness today?" Greg asked, getting back to the business at hand.

"I'll come with you now," he answered quickly, taking a quick swig of the coffee sitting on the table.

"Want to take some with you?" Molly asked as she poured water in her own mug for tea.

"Nope." Sherlock came back over and took her face between his hands as he pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "I'll come by Bart's and have some with you on your break."

"Ok," she answered with a little smile. She earned a brief smile of his in return, and then he was off in a flash with Greg.

Molly sighed contentedly and continued with her morning routine, chatting with the little "mini Holmes" along the way.

* * *

A few hours later, Molly pulled off her gloves with a huff. She felt her stomach growling and rumbling and she groaned a little along with it.

"Hmm, what do you say little sir?" she said, looking down at her belly. "I think we'd better go get some food. I don't know if we can wait for daddy much longer. Too bad for him eh? He can drink his coffee and watch us work whenever he gets here."

Molly got her bag from the locker room and made her way up the ground level and out the front doors. She was standing on the curb thinking of a particularly lovely cafe that had the most delicious blueberry muffins, when she heard a man behind speak up behind her.

"Mrs. Holmes right?" he asked, and Irish accent clearly coming through.

"Oh yes, can I help you?" Molly turned with a smile on her face, but her smile faded slightly as she saw the way the man's hoodie came down low, creating a dark shadow that covered his face.

"Your husband needs to mind his own business," the man said in a growl.

Molly was beginning to open her mouth in defense, but she never got the chance to form words.

The man's arms came up like lightening and she was given a violent shove backward...

* * *

Sherlock ran. He ran out of Scotland Yard. He ran when the cab stopped at Bart's. He ran all the way through the halls as he made his way to the ER. He came to a screeching halt at the door of the room he'd been directed to. And once he was at the door and could just barely see what was going on inside, he did something that made him feel worse than the most despicable criminal.

He froze.

Unseen by his crying wife, he stayed outside, unable to enter right away.

He could hear her sobbing softly, and he could just barely make out the doctor's words inside the room.

"Mrs. Holmes, don't be too concerned. We'll do the ultrasound and then we can be sure exactly how baby is doing."

"He," Molly corrected him with an accompanying sniffle. "It's a boy...we're supposed to be having a boy."

"All right, then let's see how he's doing, shall we?" the doctor said in a comforting tone.

Sherlock felt the hard lump in his throat and he wasn't sure if it was because he might be about to cry, or if the saying "you heart is in your throat" could possibly be literal. He stayed immobile outside the door, listening for anything that would break the silence that was now inside.

"Ah, you see? Look, he's just fine," the doctor finally spoke the soothing words, and Sherlock immediately heard Molly choke out another sob, this one from relief.

"Are you sure?" she asked desperately. Then she began comforting herself in a shaky voice. "He's moving, I can see him moving! I can see his heart beat too...oh, thank God!"

Sherlock released a breath and felt the tightness ease a bit in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and tried to relax his racing pulse. He had to go in there, and somehow the idea was terrifying. He was afraid to see his own wife, and he knew the real reason why...he was completely blaming himself.

With one final breath inhaled for strength, he spun around and turned the corner, entering the small room. Of course, Molly was nothing but relieved and emotional at the sight of him. He found himself concealing newfound horror and anger when he saw the cut on the side of her head and the bruise on her jawline.

Molly clung to him the second he collapsed on the side of the hospital bed. He had to lean down since she was still lying on her back for the ultrasound. She cried new tears at the comfort of Sherlock's presence. His touch and smell and feel all made her feel instantly better. She had no idea how much agony he was now in.

He pulled back and examined her face more closely. He forced a small comforting smile. "You're all right," he said softly.

Molly nodded and sniffed the tears away. "He's ok too. Look," she said gesturing to the screen.

Sherlock watched as the slightly alien looking creature inside of Molly moved a bit. He felt that painful lump forming in his throat again, and he had to fight the urge to rush from the room. Suddenly, something very different washed over him. When he looked back at Molly, she detected it right away.

"What happened? Leave no detail out," he asked in a low warning voice. Molly could very clearly tell that the warning was not for her.

She related the very short sequence of events.

"I barely had time to realize what was happening before I hit the pavement. That cab..." she pressed her lips together for a moment. "It came so close, Sherlock. If the driver hadn't hit the brakes as hard and fast as he did...I think you'd be visiting me in a very different part of the hospital."

It was then that Sherlock looked at his mobile which had alerted in his pocket.

"What is it?" she asked, already seeing it was something important.

"It's Mycroft. He got me the surveillance from the street in front of Bart's. This confirms it. It's one of the men...one of the suspects. I can't see his face exactly, but I recognize him all the same. I know who did this."

He stared back at her with eyes on fire, and she knew he was imagining exactly what could have been happening right now if the timing hadn't been just so. He abruptly grasped her face gently and pressed a gentle slow kiss to her lips. When he pulled away, he stood immediately.

"Where are you going?" She looked up at him as she propped herself on her elbows.

"To fix this," he said simply. "This ends today."

She could only stare as he turned and began heading out the door. But he stopped before leaving and came all the way back.

He bent down and cradled her face once again as he kissed her. This kiss was different though; Molly could tell...he was saying sorry. She could feel his lips trembling against hers as he pulled away. This time, he didn't spare a moment to look at her afterward. He separated from her and swept from the room before Molly could get another look at him.

She knew that was how he wanted it when she touched the tears on her cheeks... tears which hadn't come from her eyes.

* * *

John and Mary picked Molly up and took her home in a cab with them. They made a point to take her up to 221B and check the flat. Molly seemed to be checking too, and she was distressed when she didn't find who she was looking for.

"I though perhaps he'd be here when I got back. I've been at the hospital for hours."

John shrugged. "Well, you know what he's like. He's obviously not going to want to rest till he finds who's responsible for this. He'll do whatever he has to do."

Molly sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of."

She went down the hall and flung open the wardrobe doors. She shoved all his pristine suits aside and obtained the box hidden behind them. Mary came in the bedroom and watched as she dumped the contents onto the bed and began counting a bunch of passports. Molly pressed her hand to her mouth as she stared at the passports strewn about on the blanket.

"There's one missing, Mary," she said with a desperate look of fear in her eyes.

Mary understood. She didn't need any sort of explanation. "Have you tried texting him?"

Molly nodded. "A couple of times, but he hasn't answered."

"Maybe you could try Greg," John offered, having joined them in the bedroom.

"I already did actually," Molly said sadly. "Greg said Sherlock sent him a text earlier. He just said he had some things to take care of and that he'd explain later."

There was a moment of silence as Molly chewed her lip nervously. Mary glanced at John and then touched Molly's arm.

"Molly, what can we do? We can stay till Sherlock gets back if you'd like. Why don't I make you some tea?"

Molly shook her head. "No, no you can go. Honestly, I'm fine. I should just get some sleep. I'm really so tired."

"Well, as long as you're sure. And if you hear anything, or you're concerned, you can just call us. Don't hesitate," Mary insisted.

Molly thanked then again and saw them out a minute later. She really did want to be alone. Not really because she believed she could actually get some sleep, but more so because she was too deep in worry to even think about being in anyone's company right then. She wanted to worry in peace and quiet and be completely silent without worrying about the awkwardness she was creating. She wanted to curl up in bed and strike some sort of happy medium between being thankful for what she hadn't lost today, and being terrified of what could still very well slip from her grasp.

Molly got into sweats and did stay in bed. She was there for hours. She ran through all sorts of possibilities of what Sherlock might be doing, and where he might be going. She sent him a couple more texts as well. In addition to the couple she had send earlier asking him where he was and when he'd be back, she sent some with a different tone.

SHERLOCK, I LOVE YOU. I NEED YOU HERE WITH ME. YOU CAN'T CHANGE WHAT ALREADY HAPPENED TODAY. DON'T KILL YOURSELF TRYING. -MH

I DON'T CARE WHAT HAPPENS TONIGHT. IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT THE OUTCOME IS. NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT...PLEASE COME HOME SOON. -MH

He saw them both. She could see he had read them...but she got no response. She supposed that wasn't terribly uncommon. He didn't always reply to her texts when he was working a case. But this felt different, and it scared her.

* * *

Molly jumped when she finally heard the sound of the door opening, closing, and then his familiar footsteps. She felt a rush of relief, and then a sinking feeling of worry again. What was he about to tell her?

He came in and she watched him systematically undress in the moonlight, but she said nothing. He climbed into the bed and under the covers, but he sat up with his back against the headboard. Molly immediately pushed herself up to sit next to him. She didn't touch him yet since she wasn't sure what frame of mind he was in. Finally his voice cut through the dark.

"It's done...amazing what a little extra motivation can accomplish." His voice was a little bitter.

"But...are you ok?" she asked, placing her hand on top of his on the covers.

Sherlock turned and looked at her, his light eyes easily seen from reflecting the moonlight.

"I'm ok if you are." He placed a hand on her abdomen.

"I am. But you- you scared me."

"What do you mean?"

"The um, the passport...why did you take it?"

Sherlock smiled for a second, impressed. "You checked."

"Did you think you were going away?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't sure. But I swore that I wasn't coming home till I'd taken them down."

Molly was quiet for a moment. "Sherlock?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you ever go away again?" she asked softly.

"I take cases away from home sometimes, Molly. You know that already. Sometimes it's even out of the country."

"No, I know. What I mean is, would you um...disappear again?" She sighed. "Would you ever disappear from me?"

There was silence next to her as Sherlock stared down at her hand in his lap.

"You've thought about it, haven't you?" she asked, reading the silence.

He looked at her eventually, and spoke again. "My priority is keeping you safe, Molly; more so now than ever before. And I think you know I would do whatever it took to protect you."

She had as much as known what his answer would be, and that was why she wanted to bring it up in the first place. This was something that had to be addressed.

"Sherlock, if you want me safe, then stay close. Stay close to me," she whispered as she leaned in against his chest and felt his arm rest around her shoulders.

His tone was somber as he answered. "Sometimes, Molly...close to me is not the safest place to be."

She drew a deep breath, smelling him and releasing a flood of endorphins in the process, then let it out slowly and smiled against the white cotton on his chest.

"You're right," she said slowly. "But that doesn't change the fact that close to you is still the _best_ place for me."

She could feel his heart beat speed up beneath her cheek. She wasn't sure how seriously he was taking this and whether it would really alter his actions if such a situation ever presented itself. She had to be sure.

Molly sat up again and looked at him. "Promise me...promise me you'd never do that to me. No matter what the risk, no matter what you think is safest, don't ever leave me indefinitely. If you want what's best for me, you won't do that. I couldn't bear it. Our place is with you, and that's never going to change."

Sherlock examined her face through the darkness and she was sure she saw a faint smile on his lips.

"If that's what you want...I promise," he answered, very low and soft.

"Good," she said simply.

She leaned forward to seal the words with a long kiss. The safe feeling that such a kiss brought was everything she would ever need from him. Because for Molly, he was just a man at the end of the day. She needed him to be there, and that was all. Soon she was wrapped up tightly in his arms and snuggled against his chest as they lay in the quiet darkness, and finally she felt that sleep wasn't far off.

Sherlock was surprised at the feeling of weight lifting from his shoulders as well. Somewhere deep inside he had always known that he would be willing to do the same crazy things for Molly's benefit that he had done for others all those years ago. And naturally, she had seen that. But what an interesting feeling to have that taken off the table. No, he would never go away. He would never distance himself, no matter the danger. They'd never be alone...and that felt right.

He was reminded again of Molly's infinite wisdom in matters of the heart, and he held her just a little tighter. Hadn't this always been exactly what he needed? And clearly that would never change. But it was a beautiful thing to be reminded that more than anything else, his wife needed _him_. Not his brilliance, or deduction, not solved crimes or criminals behind bars...

Just him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! I know I've been a bit slower lately, but I hope I'll crank out another one before too long. Stay tuned! ;D


	17. New Form of Torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe this prompt came from Crazyfangirl67. At least that's the name I wrote down some months ago when I got it lol! And I think that's someone from Tumblr. Hopefully that (patient) person sees this new chapter in which they wanted Molly to learn that Sherlock is ticklish hehe! I did indeed cover that, but I also incorporated another plot point that I'd almost forgotten about...Lestrade and Becky! Yay! Hope everyone enjoys seeing more of them again. Read on and enjoy! ;)

"Honestly, Molly, this is almost unbearable," Sherlock hissed under his breath as he came up beside Molly in the kitchen.

She laughed as she poured the glasses of wine. "I think it's sweet! Besides, I don't see how you should be the uncomfortable one. You're not related to either one of them. Becky is my sister!"

"I have to work with Lestrade on at least a weekly basis. It is nothing short of disturbing to see him being so...so...snuggly!" Sherlock glanced back into the living room, catching another glance at the two people on the couch. Though they were plastered so close that it was hard to remember that it really was two separate people!

"I give you full permission to shut it down if they start snogging on the couch. But you're just going to have to deal with it if they're being cuddly and staring longingly into each other's eyes. I'm glad Becky came to London so soon after we visited her and mum. I think they're really serious."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes, but I have no desire to see just _how_ serious they are! Oh, why couldn't I have had a pressing case tonight?!"

Molly set the wine bottle down and backed him into the fridge. "Have you forgotten how little you care about being affectionate with me in front of other people? I think you have a bit of a double standard."

His eyes shifted in confusion. "Yes, Molly...that is hardly new information. I always have double standards. Why should I expect the same of myself as I do of others? That would be awful for me!" He chuckled as he reached past her and took a couple of the wine glasses and headed back to the living room.

Molly laughed quietly and shook her head as she followed suit.

They came back in the living room and took a seat, though Greg and Becky didn't seem terribly aware of anyone except each other.

"I still can't believe Molly never told me anything much about you," Becky said in a sweet tone as she draped her arm around Greg's shoulder and nestled her fingers in the short hairs at the back of his neck. "If she spent even half the time talking about you as she did about Sherlock, I think I would have moved to London by now."

"Molly's got a lot to answer for," Greg answered slowly as he eyed Becky with an unmistakable gleam in his eyes.

"It may surprise you to know that Molly is actually in the same room with you, as am I," Sherlock said sarcastically. "But perhaps you two would prefer some time to yourselves. That can easily be arranged."

"Sherlock!" Molly hissed. She looked back at her sister and Greg. "It's fine. You can stay as long as you like. I know you'd like to spend as much time together as you can since you only have a couple more days here, Becky."

"I don't know how you got any work done at the hospital, Molly...with this one hanging around." Becky gripped the salt and pepper hair on Greg's head a little tighter.

"I managed," Molly said with a laugh. "You might recall he was actually married for most of the time I've known him. Not really a serious distraction."

"And I believe you had plenty of other distractions, Dr. Hooper," Sherlock said with a smirk and sideways glance. "It's a wonder indeed that you got anything done."

Molly poked Sherlock in the arm. "It is not a wonder! I'm a professional and I know how to do my job...no matter _who_ is around or how _unnecessarily tight_ their dress shirts are!" She stuck her tongue out at him before taking a drink of her wine.

They all tried to play Cluedo soon after, though it was a source of frustration for Sherlock. He wanted to play seriously, but just about everything either Greg or Becky said was met with a kiss and snuggle from the other. Molly seemed to be entertained by the whole thing, but to Sherlock it wasn't in the least bit pleasant to watch.

"Honestly, Lestrade? You're a Detective Inspector! How can you get this wrong?" Sherlock scoffed when Greg guessed the murderer wrong.

"Don't worry, I still think you're the best DI London could ask for," Becky said smoothly as she moved over, slipped onto Greg's lap, and pressed her lips against his.

Greg instantly cared about nothing else and wrapped his arms around the beautiful woman kissing him.

"Can I please win the game now, Molly?!" Sherlock demanded through gritted teeth. "I think I've held off for an impressively long time! I could have guessed correctly five turns ago!"

"I think the game is over anyway. We've lost half the players!" Molly said with a giggle. "Hey, that's enough you two. I have limits about what can happen in my flat's living room."

Becky pulled back from the kiss and bit her lip. "Mm, I suppose we should call it a night."

"Right, I should probably...go," Greg said, looking back at her wistfully.

Becky got up and pulled Greg to stand with her. "Maybe I'll just see you out and say goodnight."

He didn't bother to hide the ridiculous grin that spread over his face. "Yeah, ok." He also managed to look back at Sherlock and Molly as he and Becky made their way out the door. "Thanks, Molly! Nice of you to invite me tonight."

"No problem, Greg. We'll see you soon!" Molly called as Becky pulled the DI out the door. She looked at Sherlock as she heard them walking down the stairs. "I'd say Becky won't be back upstairs for another half hour."

Sherlock sighed loudly. "How much longer must I endure this torture? Can't they just get married and go live somewhere together and refrain from prolonged displays of affection at Baker Street?"

"Sherlock!" Molly laughed. "They only just started dating. You can't rush them into anything simply because you don't want to have to see their relationship progress! You can't expect other people to skip the normal steps. Most couples don't go right from a fake relationship to living together!"

"Oh yes, how very funny!" Sherlock wagged his head. "And besides...there was _some_ time in between," he said indignantly.

"Yes...a matter of weeks! That's a bit unusual. Most couples spend months or years on dates and hanging out with friends. And I'm sure those friends have to witness lots of kisses and cuddles along the way!"

"Well at least we're done with it for this visit." Sherlock looked at Molly and saw that she was avoiding eye contact as she went to bring wine glasses to the sink.

"Molly?" Sherlock pressed in a warning voice. "We are done for this visit...correct?"

She finally turned and faced him with a sheepish expression. "Well...actually there's this lovely little Indian restaurant that we were all going to go to tomorrow night and-"

"No!" Sherlock put his hands up in protest. " I cannot stomach another night of Hooper and Lestrade!"

"Shh!" Molly urged with a giggle. "Keep your voice down! And you are absolutely going, Mr. Holmes, I don't care what you say! Besides, I thought you wanted them to get together."

"I do! But I'd like for it to happen somewhere other than _in front of me!"_ he whined.

"Well that's fine. This time we'll be at a restaurant, as I said." Molly looked at him pointedly. "We _are_ going, Sherlock."

Sherlock crossed his arms. "Don't want to. I'll be unavailable," he stated firmly.

"No, you will not! I know you're available." Molly made her way over to Sherlock and stopped in front of him, staring up at him with an unwavering gaze. "She's my sister and he's one of your best friends, and I'm not taking them out by myself!"

"Don't forget, I've endured actual torture and remained unbroken." Sherlock's tone became less resolute as he saw the determination in Molly's eyes. "You...can't make me."

Molly raised an amused eyebrow. She reached for his arms crossed against his chest. "You look like a cranky toddler, stop crossing your arms like that!" she said with a chuckle and tried to wedge her fingers in between his arms and torso. She was stopped short by a sudden high pitched yelp that came out of the Detective's mouth.

"What was that?" Molly asked as her lips turned up in a smile.

"N-nothing...I just...coughed," he said trying to back away a bit.

Molly looked pleased as she advanced closer to him again. "That was not a cough. That was a laugh! Sherlock Holmes, are you ticklish? How did I not already know this?"

"Pfff! That's...ridiculous! Of course I'm not ticklish." He took another few steps back and moved closer to the hallway.

"Oh I don't know about that," Molly said, eyeing him carefully. She lunged forward and shoved her fingers under his crossed arms again and began wiggling them firmly against his stomach and sides.

The level of immediate hysteria that her fingers set off was more than she could have hoped for. She half expected Mrs. Hudson to come upstairs and check on them. It was one of the funniest things she'd ever witnessed! He tried to block her, but she kept finding new angles to reach his middle. They were soon both laughing till tears were coming out of their eyes.

"M-Molly! Stop...stop!" he wheezed out in laughter, almost doubled over in the onslaught of tickles.

"I don't think so, detective! I've got you right where I want you!"

Finally, Sherlock gave up trying to block her hands and instead managed to straighten up and quickly take hold of her wrists, wrapping them behind her and backing her against the wall. They stood there almost nose to nose, breathing in gasps as the laughter slowly subsided. Their expressions suddenly changed though; eyes gliding over each other's faces and lips hovering painfully close. Sherlock let out a heavy exhale and dove down, his mouth colliding with hers in an unexpected burst of passion.

The chain reaction was instant. Molly's arms were around his neck and her legs were around his waist. The hysterical laughter was replaced with heavy breathing and sighs. After a minute against the wall, Sherlock took it upon himself to move them down the hall and into the bedroom.

They crashed onto the bed and the frenzy continued. Sherlock began working at the buttons of Molly's shirt as he mumbled between kisses.

"Your sister had better take her time downstairs...and hopefully head straight up to her room when Lestrade is gone."

"Mm...She'd _better,"_ Molly agreed with a groan.

Suddenly her eyes shot open though, as Sherlock's lips descended to her neck. She smiled to herself as she decided that she wasn't quite sure she was done with this newfound power of hers...

She quickly flipped them over and after feigning at working on Sherlock's shirt buttons for a moment; she suddenly began aggressively tickling his sides again. Sherlock of course dissolved into giggles once again as his face turned beet red.

"So, Sherlock," Molly said through her own laughter. "I forget what you said about dinner tomorrow night!"

"You- you can't...you can't make me!" he sputtered out, and tried to scrunch up and protect his middle.

"Sorry, what was that?" Molly asked sweetly.

Sherlock gasped for breath. "Arg! Ok ok! Fine! _Fine!_ I'll go...I'll go to dinner tomorrow!"

Molly pulled her hands back and rested on her heels as Sherlock collapsed on the mattress.

"There," she said with a grin. "That wasn't so hard."

She crawled back toward him after a moment and hovered over the winded consulting detective. "Now what was it you said about torture to me earlier?" she asked with a smug smile.

Sherlock pushed himself up with a lazy smile and gently flipped them again, hovering over her lips. "Suppose I'll have to recant my previously stated record. The truth is...I gladly yield to nobody's torture but yours, Molly Hooper," he said in an unexpectedly warm and loving tone.

She reached up and touched his face as his words simultaneously touched her heart. "I'd say that's enough torture for one night," she said as she began pulling him down toward her lips again.

"Oh really?" he teased nudging her nose with his own. "Suddenly uninterested in your specialized torture method, Dr. Hooper? Tsk tsk...that easily distracted?"

Molly smirked as she took hold of his face more firmly, planning to renew their kissing on her own terms. She spoke one more time before their lips melted together again.

"If you don't shut up and pick up where we left off, I'd venture to say I'll be the one in torment!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say...I had fun writing this one. They got a little friskier than I'd originally thought they would, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that nobody is super upset about that haha! And I don't know why the whole idea of a Lestrade and Becky relationship makes me smile so big, but it totally does. I think it's just because I want that man to find a nice girl so bad...sigh. Anyway that's the latest and I'll see you guys next time! ;D  
> **5/16/16 EDIT- Officially marking this fic as complete now. It's been fun, but there's only so many things I can do with one ficverse lol! Thanks to those of you who have so happily followed the Winds series!***


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